


The Laws of Universal Beauty

by KoibitoDream



Series: Aesthetics [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Art, Artists, Gen, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Series, and his merry bunch, art collections, art collector Oikawa Tooru, hello again it's me, just one really, new plots and maybe a few twists, now featuring photography, sequel to Beauty, will add new characters as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-29 12:01:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 74,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoibitoDream/pseuds/KoibitoDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back from the vacation, Oikawa and his team settle in their usual routines. Things, however, start getting hectic again, when a certain miniature reappears, a mystery packet for Kageyama arrives and there's new trouble brewing in the sophisticated world of fine art. Are they all related?</p><p>Is that the only question they have to find an answer to?</p><p>In this occupation, things are rarely what they seem at first glance. Tsukishima Kei is getting more and more certain of that fact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Small talk

It's late September and everyone is back in their daily routines. Meaning Oikawa making paper planes, Iwaizumi threatening to set him on fire if he doesn't get the work done by lunch time, Hanamaki's busy with reorganising the paperwork mess and Matsukawa and Kageyama are back in their own studio, dealing with a few new assignments. (Though, this time, Matsukawa's on the miniatures.)

Sugawara's still over at Ushijima's, helping out with some delicate works that need extra care.

The slight kidnapping inconvenience is somewhat forgotten along the remaining of their vacation and although Oikawa did offer to extend it, they refused. No way Kageyama could stay away from his job that long and they had their fill of the Mediterranean for this season. They even got to know a few more people, all thanks to their usually reclusive member.

 

Some things _did_ change, though, and for the better at that.

 

Sure, Kageyama was still hell bent on his work and forgot himself at times, but he would take his breaks regularly now, even if everyone around him still needed to remind him of them.

“They seem to be getting along well.” Hanamaki grins as he walks through the doors of the studio with their lunch in his hands, seeing Kageyama on the phone, smiling.

“Yep.” Matsukawa's agrees, taking on of the boxes from Hanamaki and walking over to the resting area, where they could relax without the fear of accidentally poisoning themselves.

Hanamaki waves at Kageyama to join them when he's finished.

“How are your newest assignments going along?” Hanamaki asks as he sits down at the table, poring some tea into Matsukawa's cup.

“The one I got is not that bad, a bit of cleaning and it'll be good as new, but Kageyama's is gonna need some work.” Matsukawa says, accepting the cup gratefully. “By the time it's ready to be worked on, I'll be finished with mine so I'll help out.”

“How's your end?”

“Well, there are two months worth of unanswered mails that Oikawa should have at least opened.” He begins, poking at his lunch. “Thankfully, I set up the automatic response service informing people that we were on vacation. Anything really important was forwarded to Iwaizumi.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Matsukawa says, wiping his fingers with a napkin before he reaches out for the tablet they sometimes used, “keep your schedule free for October 15th. There's a new auction in town and Oikawa has plans.”

“What will it be this time?”

“Remember that painting that was nicked right under his nose?”

“The miniature he sent Kageyama to get?”

“Yep.”

“Shit me not.”

“I shit you not.”

Hanamaki laughs, almost spilling his own tea.

“I can't wait to see their face.”

“Can't wait to see whose face?” Kageyama asks as he joins them.

“Remember the miniature you were supposed to get back in Italy?” Hanamaki asks, passing him a cup.

“Yeah.” How could he not?

“Guess what's on the list for October's auction.” He asks, grinning.

Even Kageyama saw the absurdity of it. He now feels bad for all the troubles Bokuto-san and the rest of them had to go through to get it. Not that he'll complain.

“Yeah, that's gonna be a problem for the one listing it.” He says, taking a careful bite of his own lunch.

“But I can't imagine them being that stupid.” He ads, almost as an afterthought.

“Who knows?” Matsukawa mutters, scanning through the mail on the tablet, letting his own lunch cool off a bit. “Maybe there's something more to it than we can see at this point.”

“What? Another kidnapping?” Kageyama jokes.

Matsukawa smiles at that. “Possibly.”

“ _Oh, I'd like to see them try._ ” Hanamaki ads all sweet and sugary.

 

Okay, so Hanamaki has yet to let that one go. They can't blame him, though. If anything else, Matsukawa and Kageyama are being the weird ones. Well, even if he's all fine now, they have been told that sometimes the shock comes later. So far, Kageyama here hasn't shown any signs of distress.

Then again, this new romance thing might be also to blame for his relaxed demeanour.

_Speaking of which._

 

“So,” Matsukawa tucks the tablet away into it's pouch, turning his attention to the kid himself, busy munching on his food, “how's Mr Photography?”

“He's fine.” Kageyama says. “He's in Amsterdam, sorting out some stuff.”

“That's good.”

“Stuff? As in?” Hanamaki asks, curious. Better not be some stray lovers. Then again, if he's telling them all to heck off, by all means. Sort that shit out.

“He told me he had a ton of undeveloped films back there. He didn't actually quit photography for good, it's just that he didn't care to do anything about it.”

“Sounds like someone found his muse.” Matsukawa reaches out and ruffles Kageyama's hair playfully.

“A muse? Me?” Kageyama asks, doubtful. “I can't really see it.”

“Why not?” Hanamaki arches a brow.

“The way I see it, a muse is someone or something that inspires. You should see yourself work, no wonder we all stick to the schedule. Hell, if I knew nothing catastrophic would happen, I'd send you over to Oikawa for a while. Let Iwaizumi breathe for a second.”

“I don't think it would work that way.” Kageyama says.

“How so?”

“Iwaizumi-senpai _is_ Oikawa's muse. I think they have a wonderful relationship.”

Wow. This kid is so deep sometimes. It took them a while to get to the bottom of their dynamics, but this kid had them figured out in just a few days.

“Much to Iwaizumi's dismay, you are right about that.” Hanamaki sighs. “Then again, when it comes to relationships, I'd pick mine any time of the day or lifetime.”

 

“I'm so touched.” Matsukawa says, face flat.

“ _Not yet, you're not._ ”

Matsukawa arches a brow at him as Kageyama snorts.

“Makki. Behave.”

 

“ _Oh, so that's the game today._ ”

 

“ _Makki._ ”

 


	2. Oikawa in doubt

“Well, Iwa-chan, I hope you're nicely rested, for today we are hunting for blood!” Oikawa says, smiling, nearly shining from his unusually tidy desk as Iwaizumi walks into his office with two cups of coffee and a little milk bread for Oikawa.

“When do we have to be there?” Iwaizumi asks, placing everything on the cleared desk and can't stop staring at it, because the last time he _actually saw the desk_ was the day it was brought in. For some five minutes, give or take.

“No idea.” Oikawa chirps, taking one of the cups. “But I hear Kou-chan has a date.”

Iwaizumi twitches his brow at that.

They have an auction to go to, the one Oikawa has been on his case to make sure they don't miss for over a month and _now he has no idea_ when they should get going, _but knows_ that Sugawara has a date?

 

“ _Get your damn priorities straight._ ” Iwaizumi mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. _And it's barely eight in the morning._

 

But; congratulations, Sugawara.

 

“By the way, now that the pesky duo is out of the way-” Oikawa begins,

“Who are you calling the pesky duo?” Hanamaki asks, walking in with a few documents, still warm from the printer – Oikawa's schedule for the upcoming auction.

“Oh, those two from _Alte Nationalgalerie_ who nicked that painting I wanted.” Oikawa says and even Iwaizumi is impressed how smooth that went. “But this time, they're not present. Is that my schedule?”

_Yeah, Hanamaki's not buying that shit for a second, but plays along any way._

“Here you go. From day one to day four, with all the things you need to attend in person in red and the casual ones in green.”

“...they're all in red.” Oikawa concludes after taking a look.

“Well, looks like you got work to do, then.” Hanamaki smiles sweetly at him.

“And don't go hating on our German colleagues _too much_ , lest you offend our precious Kageyama.” He says before leaving the office, no doubt to hang around the gallery and Matsukawa – _again_.

Leaving Oikawa to heavily ponder about what he said.

“Why would Tobio-chan be offended?” He asks out loud, confused.

Iwaizumi gives him a look.

“Because he's half German himself?” He offers, not sure whether Oikawa was just pulling his leg.

“...huh?”

“You're telling me he's been around here for over five years and you don't know he's half German?”

“The hell was I supposed to know that?”

“Blue eyes?” _Where did he think he got those? From a magic fairy that grants blue eyes?_

“A lot of nations have people with blue eyes.”

Fair enough.

“He has two passports? One in German? He speaks the language fluently? He told you that when you asked him once?” Iwaizumi's lists, still refusing to believe Oikawa's ignorance.

“Oh, yeah...” Oikawa makes that it's-there-somewhere-in-my-brain-and-I-can-fuzzily-recall-something-but-not-quite face, with a scrunched up nose and staring somewhere upwards.

Oh, good.

He remembered.

 

“ _...you should be ashamed of yourself._ ”

“ _IWA-CHAN??!_ ”

 

One minor incident aside, Oikawa and Iwaizumi packed up and were on their way to the auction in no time. Hanamaki would follow after them with both Matsukawa and Kageyama sometime in the afternoon.

Oikawa just had too many social events to cover first.

Two magazines, one local newspaper, the newspaper that wasn't so local, a few familiar faces from other galleries and museums, some of his own employees in other places, the managers, the auctioneer, the head of the auction house the damn thing was supposed to be held at, the security head _and thank God, it's lunch time_.

“From what I have heard, your miniature has been listed anonymously.” Iwaizumi informs him as they finally sit down in the restaurant half a street away from the auction house.

“Didn't really expect them to filling in a name, but for no one to know who they are is ridiculous.”

“Maybe they're just pulling one on you.”

“It has occurred to me, yes.” Oikawa states, playing with the spoon. “It makes no sense whatsoever to go through all that trouble to get it, only to enlist it here.”

“Still no word from your associates?” He then turns his full attention to Iwaizumi, spoon back on the table.

“No. Whoever stands behind that kidnapping are good. No one saw or heard anything.” Iwaizumi states, not too happy about that fact. “He was missing only a few days and so far the conclusion is that it really was a mistake on their part.”

“But Tobio-chan mentioned to look out for a Van Gogh.”

“Maybe; so far there isn't one anywhere.”

Odd indeed. They both fall silent as their lunch arrives and Oikawa falls into a deep thought.

The three that got apprehended had no idea who Tobio-chan was, or so they claimed. Tobio-chan himself said he never saw any kidnappers, which was plausible but he didn't say much about it in general and Oikawa doesn't want to pressure him. What has him slightly doubtful is that... _new friend of his_.

He's met Akaashi before, some gallery or the other, he's not a person one can forget easily and them meeting in Rome wouldn't be that much of an impossibility, seeing how that guy worked for _Borghese Gallery_ , if he's not mistaken, and was in the restoration business like Tobio-chan.

He lets out a heavy sigh.

He's been thinking way too much into things.

Besides, Tobio-chan himself said Tsukishima was a friend of Akaashi's. _Man, he should really start paying attention to what the kid says._

 

But still, something doesn't add up here.

 

“You think he's really alright?” Oikawa asks, voice low and full of worry.

Iwaizumi blinks at him before easing up a bit. He might be an airhead when he wants to be but he's also feeling greatly responsible, despite everything.

“I'm sure he'll tell us if he's not.”

“Will he?” Oikawa arches an eyebrow, a little doubtful.

“What do you mean?”

“He's a good kid but he's also a bit distant. At least he was until someone thought it convenient to take him along the damn painting. I'd like to think that he's opening up a bit because he trusts us and not because something happened while he was away that he's too scared to talk to us about.”

Oh, maybe Oikawa isn't that much of an ignorant when it comes to Kageyama, after all. He also has a good point. Kageyama did fit the type to deal with shit on his own. Could have something to do with him being a diplomat's kid. That can be quite the character building experience.

Still...

“I wouldn't worry too much about that.” Iwaizumi says, poking Oikawa's nose with the spare chopsticks. “He called me when he saw you being threatened.”

 

 _Yes, Iwa-chan, that is true_ , Oikawa thinks but smiles a bit any way, _but that was about me._

 

_Not him._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just might turn out to be a wee bit deeper than the last one. Maybe. I cannot promise you anything.


	3. The elder brother

“Wow, I can't believe the sheer amount of pictures you have here.” Akiteru whistles as both Kei and he enter Kei's apartment. “When did you say that editor was coming again?”

“Next week.”

“Okay.”

It'll take them a bit longer than that to fully organise all of the photos he took over the span of a year and a half, give or take, but it's gonna be a lot easier than he thought since Kei had the habit of labelling the boxes he kept his films and SD cards in.

“So...portraits, architecture, wild life, cities, landscapes, objects, mixed...” He can hear his brother list as he goes through the bigger boxes and then stops abruptly, slightly confused.

“ _Water surfaces?_ ”

 

_Oh, shit._

 

“Leave that one.” He says, as he walks into the living room, carrying some snacks and his brother's favourite brand of coffee. _That one is actually more private_.

 

“Okay.” Akiteru shoves it back into the shelf where he found it. “Which ones do we have to get ready by next week?”

“The Taj Mahal.”

“Oh?”

“What?”

“Nothing, I was just...nah, forget it.” Akiteru smiles. “So where did you put that?”

“I have no idea.” Kei states.

“It's three rolls bound together and marked with a red marker and I think I put a number on it. It should be 64. I can't remember if I put it in the architecture or the landscape batch or maybe I just tossed it in the mixed. I really don't.”

“Okay.” Akiteru says, glancing at the three biggest boxes stuffed into the shelf. “We have until next week to find it.” Which sounds great, but is actually only two and a half days away. But, no worries, they can manage it. It's only three boxes.

“ _...or was it in the landmarks one?_ ” Kei mutters more to himself, but Akiteru hears it any way.

Okay, so _four_ boxes.

And two and a half days to find the right films.

No biggie.

 

They can manage it.

 

 _It's Sunday late afternoon when Kei finally locates the thing in the_ _India – mixed_ box that somehow ended up in the upper left corner of the highest shelf he had.

Nevertheless, they found it. And just in time, too.

“Kei”, Akiteru stares, amazed, “these are majestic. How come you never had them printed out?”

“I wasn't exactly in the right spirits to think about work.” Kei says, waiting for the printer to do it's magic. _The key to handle any printer is not to show that you're nervous or in a hurry._

“Did anything happen?” Akiteru asks from where he sat at Kei's computer, making sure the correct version of the photos are sent to the printer.

“I kinda lost all motivation.” Kei states flat as the first photo emerges from the printer, holding it up to inspect it. It's been a while since he used that printer.

“...wanna talk about it?” The older of the two offers.

“...no. Don't feel the need to.”

And it's something in his tone that reassures Akiteru that he's really fine now.

“Alright.” He says and turns to him, leaning back on the chair. “So how is it?”

“It's okay. The printer doesn't act up. The colours are fine. The paper is good. Maybe the contrast should be a little less artificial.”

“Okay. Lowering the contrast.”

“Remove the green filter from number 24, too.”

“Sure.”

Some two hours later, the photos are printed and ready to be picked up. They're both seated on the sofa, relaxing, but Akiteru can't help but stare at the ridiculous amount of undeveloped films stacked up on the shelves.

“Man, that's a lot of photos.” He mutters before he can stop himself.

Kei doesn't mind, though, as he eyes the rearranged and reorganised corner.

“I sure stacked up a lot, didn't I?”

“I _was_ going to ask where you were for the past few months, but I can see that you've been busy. Working on another exhibition?”

“...sort of.”

“Not that I'm rushing you here, it's just that you have an amazing talent and it would be a shame to...let go of it.”

At that, Kei _snorts_.

“What?” Akiteru asks, curious, because it's really, _really_ rare for him to display any stronger emotion.

“Nothing. He said the same thing.” Kei slips before he can actually think about it. Now that's a first.

Akiteru, on the other hand, is about to burst from his skin.

“ _He?_ ”

Don't get him wrong. He wouldn't – _doesn't_ – care who or even what he dates or wants to date or hangs out with or whatever else involves people interacting, it's just so rare that he mentions anything, even less anyone.

And Kei's in a rare good mood so why the hell not? Why not share a few things with his brother? _The strictly legal ones, that is_. After all, he _did_ ditch all his plans for the weekend to help out sort this year and a half+ mess.

 

“I...met someone.” Kei says, relaxing into the sofa. “When Akaashi and I visited Rome this summer.”

“...and?” Akiteru squeaks out, trying his hardest not to implode. Not now. Not when Kei, his oh so stubborn little brother with an attitude, is finally in the mood to talk. _About someone. He met. This summer. Oh, dear God._

“I like him.”

Short. Sweet. To the point.

“ _...and?_ ”

“He likes me, too.”

_Sweet baby Jesus._

“...so...uhm...would...you...introduce...us...? _Maybe?_ ” Akiteru asks, in tiny fragments and in a tiny sweet voice, nearly falling out of his seat from how much he leaned forward.

 

“...I don't see why not.” Kei says.

 

Hell, he already met all of his...guardians...yeah, he'll have to ask him about that...in one go, so that would only be fair.

 

_Akiteru is dead and buried._

 

_It's still too early for the parents, any way._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's a double update, y'all. Enjoy some brotherly love and conversations.


	4. Too soon?

“Hey, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi waves over at him, smiling from ear to ear, as he gets up from his seat at the local cafe, not too far from Tsukishima's editor's office. Or, more like, the magazine's editor that published his landmarks and architecture related photos. There were some four magazines he worked with and one or two galleries that were always happy to get their hands on his work, each in demand for a specific theme.

 

“It's been so long!” He says, giving him a bear hug when he's in range, not the least bit interested that Tsukki actually dislikes that sort of attention.

“No word from you in months and now I hear from Akiteru that you're setting up a new collection _and_ you met someone?”

_Yeah, leave it to Akiteru to spread the news like wildfire._

“Tell me everything!” He demands as he finally lets go of him so they can both sit down.

“There's nothing yet to tell, Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima says as he takes up a chair across his childhood friend, whom he _did_ neglect, quite horribly so.

“Oh, so it's new?” Yamaguchi smiles, again.

“Yeah. Met him this summer in Rome. He was sketching the Pietá.”

_Not exactly where Yamaguchi was going with that one, but, yes, he'll gladly listen to Tsukishima talk about his newest love interest. The photographs can wait that long._

“Never knew you were for the art type.” Yamaguchi muses, curious, remaining silent about that little fact.

“Neither did I.” _And it's true._

_He's met artists before. But Kageyama is a category for himself._

“Come on, Tsukki, do I really have to pry every word out of you here? Have some mercy. It's been ages.”

“Fine, fine. Just give me a second.” Not like he can tell Yamaguchi about his side job either. Although Yamaguchi would most likely send some spy movies and journals to help out. Because he's Yamaguchi.

“Well, actually, it was Akaashi that made the first move – I wasn't really paying attention until I saw his sketchbook-”

“So you fell for his sketchbook, I mean, _talents_ first?” Yamaguchi teases, laughing at his own joke. Oh, Tsukishima must have it bad.

“I'll pretend you never said that.” Tsukishima says, smoothly continuing where he left off.

“I saw him next at a concert, also by chance-”

“You mean fate-”

“- _and_ thought that he really didn't fit there so I got this idea to show him the spot on the roof-”

“Wow, Tsukki, that's _fast_ -”

“-we got talking about stuff and I ended up talking about the red umbrella.”

“ _Oh._ ” Yamaguchi's enthusiasm left there shortly. _Touchy things._

“Sort of.” Tsukishima ads. “Tell you the truth, he struck me as one of those goodie two shoes people.” _How wrong was he in the end about that, but yeah, Yamaguchi doesn't need to know how that one came about, either._

 

“Did he?” Oh, yes, now that's more like it. Yamaguchi's all ears. “What changed your mind?”

 

“He's...” What's the word, “a lot more complex that he seems at first.” _If he had to put it simply._

 

“M-hm.” Yamaguchi arches a brow. “Is that your new term for _I was wrong to judge?_ ”

“Alright, wise guy.” Tsukishima smirks. “If you're going to be so smug.”

He reaches for his phone and searches for a certain picture.

“Pray tell, what would you say to this one?”

 

Yamaguchi takes the phone from his hand to get a closer look.  _And has to admit defeat._

 

“He does give off this...polite aura...vibe...thing.” He says, tilting his head.

“And now look at the next one.”

Yamaguchi does exactly that.

 

“ _Holy shit-_ ” He gaps.

 

Talk about –  _change_ .

 

“Am I even allowed to look at this?” Yamaguchi asks jokingly as he returns Tsukishima's phone to him. Sure, the picture was taken on a roof somewhere in Rome, but damn, Tsukishima wasn't one of the best photographers for nothing. It still felt like he wasn't supposed to see it.

“What do you mean?” Tsukishima asks.

“I don't know, it just feels so... _private._ ”

And now Tsukishima has to take a double look at it.

It's one of the photos he took that day on their date,  _after his oh so safe return_ , when they were up on a rooftop and Tsukishima was showing him how to take a decent picture. He couldn't calm down for a second and failed miserably at staying still. Tsukishima thought it would be a nice photo and took it on his phone before he even knew he was doing it.

_But now that Yamaguchi mentions it_ ...it  _does_ feel... _not so much for public display._

 

“It's the background.” He states, deciding to stop thinking about it right then and there.

“That's _some_ background.”

“But I get it.” He quickly ads as Tsukishima shoots him a look. “You met this ridiculously handsome hottie that can also be cute and forgot about everyone else. I'm so happy for you, Tsukki!”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Not sorry, Tsukki.”

 

“By the way”, he ads, blowing lightly on the surface of his tea once it arrives, “what's the new exhibition about.”

“That's...I'm not sure if there's going to be a new exhibition just yet.”

_No?_

“But, Akiteru...?” Did he misunderstand him yesterday? Could be. Akiteru was talking a mile a minute and Yamaguchi, if he has to be fully honest, stopped listening after the words Kei met someone and joined in on the screaming along Akiteru when he couldn't keep his shit together any more. Not that he can blame him. That guy waited a _life time_ for something like this to happen.

“Look, Yamaguchi, I...” Oh, man. “I kept taking photos over the last year and a half but I was very remote from taking them for work.”

_Sweet mother of correct lighting, is he really going to say this out loud?_

“I'm..publishing a set of photographs of the Taj Mahal because I-”

 

_And even Yamaguchi can't believe this mess of words barely coming out of Tsukishima's mouth._

_Oh, what the hell. Since he's turning a new page, might as well turn it completely._

 

“I mentioned I had an entire album of the Taj Mahal to Kageyama and now I'm... _publishing it._ ”

 

_Which is about the equivalent of Tsukishima tattooing his sympathies for the guy on the face of the moon. In Yamaguchi's book._

 

One can easily understand why said Yamaguchi is now having trouble deciding how to react to this.

Should he laugh? Should he cry? Should he faint?

All of the above?

But then the realisation and heaviness of those words sink in and Yamaguchi does neither of that.

Instead, he smiles gently at his childhood friend, _who's pretty much regretting being so rash and why the hell didn't he just send him those in the mail?_

“That's great, Tsukki.”

(Tsukishima doesn't miss the gentle tone of his voice when he says that and calms down a bit, too.)

 

“I think...I'll get back to it. One day.” Tsukishima says, leaning back into his seat.

 

_That...would be really great._

 

“ _I demand a copy.”_

 

“ _Of course.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter for today, I swear.


	5. Restless

The auction wasn't a total flop – Oikawa got his miniature back seeing it was his in the first place and then he acquired two new paintings along with it. There was also this interesting little statuette that Oikawa got for his home. Neat little art nouveau thing. He knows just the spot where to put it.

The auction itself wasn't without it's usual charms and thrills, one must simply be there to experience it in full. Day one and two were all about that. Day three and four...well.

There's so much of the same questions he can answer, really. Especially with other things on his mind.

 

What or who was the objective that time?

That miniature or Kageyama Tobio?

 

Unfortunately, seeing how the miniature was more or less  _returned_ to its rightful owner, it leaves Oikawa with the only other currently available option.

It sends unpleasant shivers down his spine when he thinks about it.

They were all  _extremely_ lucky this time around.

 

Unless...

 

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa speaks up from where he lays on the sofa in the comfort of his living room, holding a pen between his fingers. A gift from Iwa-chan for his last birthday.

“Hmm?” The other hums softly, invested into the screen of his laptop, seated right across Oikawa.

“ _Is there something going on with our diplomacy?_ ” He asks and for a moment there, Iwaizumi stops typing and looks up just over the edge to meet Oikawa's eyes.

“No.” He says, waiting for Oikawa to form his thoughts.

“I see.” Oikawa blinks, almost disappointed as he goes back to observe the ceiling. The pure white of it irks him. He should get some patterns up there – to fit the rest of the room.

“Still thinking about it?”

“Of course I am.” He nearly scoffs, now rather pissed he can't reach the bottom of this mess.

“It all may seem like a huge coincidence, but what if it's not?”

“Oikawa-”

“If someone is trying to get to me and ends up hurting _them...you, I_ -”

“ _Tooru._ ” Iwaizumi speaks so softly, Oikawa immediately stops panicking.

“Hey. Look at me.” Iwaizumi says as he cups his face, gently, as if he'd break otherwise. “I'm alright. They're alright. You're alright.”

And Oikawa lets out a great deal of air he didn't even realise he kept holding in, calming down.

“I have some news for you, but you can't be panicking. Deal?”

Oikawa nods his head, relaxing into his touch.  _So warm and comforting_ .

“Deal.”

“Okay.” Iwaizumi quirks the corner of his mouth up, but the smile is more in his eyes than on his face.

“It's about that painting Kageyama mentioned they had him paint.” He says, casting a glance in the general positing of his laptop.

“I found something that might get us somewhere.”

“What did you find?”

“One of my former colleagues owed me a favour. They looked into this matter since they're already dealing with art theft in that general area.”

“They found out that there's a bigger thing in the making, but it's all nothing more than street talk – for now. I don't know why they asked Kageyama for a Van Gogh though, since the talk is about Cézzane.”

“Which Cézzane?” Oikawa asks.

“Les jou...uh...”

“ _Les joueurs de cartes_? ”

“Yes and possibly one of his earlier works.”

“The card players are in London as far as I know.”

“There could be more groups.” Iwaizumi says. “Each targeting a specific masterpiece or whatever convenient. They could be working to create a diversion there and steal a Van Gogh somewhere else.”

“So...Tobio-chan really had nothing more than bad luck?”

“ _That's actually more plausible than anything, really._ ”

 

...no lie there.

Still.

 

“We should be on the look out, at least for a while.” Oikawa says, leaning against Iwaizumi's arm.

“I'm sure Hanamaki will agree with you on that.”

“He really likes him, doesn't he?”

“I'm sure he's more traumatised by that event than Kageyama himself.”

“You think I should give him a day off?”

“So he can start panicking for real? No.”

“Right.”

 

“You know what also could have happened back then?” Iwaizumi says after a few minutes of comfortable silence, right as Oikawa began slipping into a nice nap.

“What?”

“He could have messed up their plans so they returned both as soon as possible so we don't go after them.”

 

_ Now that's actually funny. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what the hell. I can't even. I'm basically all the titles since chapter 4.


	6. Surprises at the doorstep

It's a beautiful morning the next day, Hanamaki notes, sighing a bit since he's gonna spend it hauled up right in front of a damn screen. He could have been productive otherwise.

_Like sleep it off._

“Now let's see”, the courier says as he opens the delivery van, “yes. Here are the documents you requested, the samples and there is also one package for a certain Kageyama Tobio. He works here, right?”

“Yes?” Hanamaki says, looking curious at the package, suddenly wide awake, leaving everything else on the street. Luckily, one of the assistants hurry out to get the papers and supplies before Hanamaki _really leaves everything else laying outside_ in favour of a mystery package for Kageyama Tobio.

“Great. I'll just need signatures.”

“Should I get-”

“No, it's addressed to the gallery, so whoever is in charge can sign it.” The courier says, taking a look at the address.

“Nice.” Hanamaki stamps his hanko on a few copies of the receipt.

“Thank you. Have a nice day.”

“Likewise.”

_And Hanamaki Takahiro is chill until the van turns the corner._

 

Though the law prohibits him from opening someone else's mail he's not authorised to.

 

“ _Since when do you abide the law?_ ” Matsukawa asks him as they're both spying through the glass door, eyeing the mystery package standing right next to Kageyama's work place.

_Because nothing will pry that guy from his work until the designated break time. Not even a mystery package that eats Makki alive._

“ _Dude, I only ever open Oikawa's mail because he doesn't._ ” He says, glaring at the very _not_ see-through paper as if staring could pry it open.

“ _Also, Iwaizumi's. Yours. Sometimes even Sugawara's._ ”

Sugawara's? As in Sugawara Koushi? Who knows his dissolving liquids like the back of his hand?

“ _Are you trying to get yourself dissolved in a chemical without a trace?_ ”

“ _What? All he ever never opens are some coupons. Which are really great, by the way._ ”

“ _Makki. Behave._ ”

“ _...is it his break time yet?_ ”

“ _Why are you whispering?_ ” Iwaizumi asks, looking over Matsukawa's shoulders.

“ _And why are you all spying on Tobio-chan?_ ” Oikawa ads, right behind him.

Both Matsukawa and Hanamaki point to the big wrapped thing placed against Kageyama's desk.

“ _The hell is that?_ ” Oikawa asks, supporting himself on Hanamaki to get a better view.

“ _I have no clue. Came in this morning. Addressed to him._ ”

“It's obviously a painting, you idiots.” Iwaizumi says a bit too loud and gets a onslaught of _shush's_ right into his face.

 

“Is it my break time already?” Kageyama turns to ask them, moving the magnifying lens aside.

“Why of course it is.” Oikawa smiles, ( _No, it isn't._ ), stepping right in, almost knocking down a few bottles of highly acidic contents and Matsukawa nearly melts the glass with his glare alone, startling both Hanamaki and Iwaizumi.

“So what did you get?” Oikawa asks, all hyped about it.

“Who's the sender?” Matsukawa ads.

“Who cares, open it!” Hanamaki smiles.

“ _Would you give him some space?!_ ” Iwaizumi grabs all of them by the collar, dragging them away just enough so they don't end up piling on poor Kageyama.

There's an envelope stuck neatly between the pins on the back as Kageyama pulls the package on top of his desk. He carefully works around the pins so not to tear it. There's nothing written on the envelope, on the front nor the back and it puzzles him a bit.

 

_Who would anyone be sending him anything?_

 

(There's about four people behind him who have a good idea, but remain silent about it.)

 

He reaches for one end of the envelope, tearing it down in a neat strip, before tilting the thing and an invitation falls out.

(And now everyone's curious.)

“What's this?” Kageyama asks, tilting his head at the small invitation.

Well...he guesses it's an invitation, but there is nothing written on it, too.

“Wait.” Matsukawa says.

“May I?” He reaches out, palm up and Kageyama lets it fall on his hand.

Matsukawa then tilts it a few times under the light and faint letters appear.

“There we go. It's some fancy hologram writing. Invitation for a grand opening of the new gallery in... _Stockholm?_ ”

 

Now that's new.

 

He glances over at Hanamaki who just shrugs in return – he hasn't heard anything of the sort either.

Kageyama then turns to the package itself and carefully unwraps it.

The wrapping unveils a beautiful 30 x 25 cm, oil on canvas, scenery of a golden field with low hills in green in a distance and it looks like the wind is _still_ blowing through the long, fluid, grains, with a low sunset on the left and deep blue shadows on the right side of the hills. The colours are vibrant and thickly applied, it could easily pass as a relief, _impasto but not showing too aggressively._

 _It's so expressive, so strong, so...so mesmerizing, so breathtaking, so beautiful_ , Kageyama's in awe, lips parting slight as he gets lost in it and the rest of them can't find any words either.

To say that he fell in love with it wouldn't be exactly an understatement.

( _Tsukishima would surely understand._ )

 

The only thing indicating the author is the tiniest letter “A” on the back of it.

“ _Well, I'll be..._ ” Matsukawa mutters, glancing at Kageyama, who doesn't even breathe at this point. He places a hand on his back, just to to remind him of that basic life function.

Whoever sent this, they _know_ Kageyama.

“Do you know who sent this?” Oikawa asks, startling Kageyama from his daze.

“...no.”

It could be Akaashi-san, but that's not his style, not remotely so. Tsukishima could have had something to do with it, but...he's sure he's seen this once before. Maybe a glimpse of it, but he's sure.

_So sure._

 

_But where?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy.


	7. A request

Most of Oikawa's office in is glass. Tempered glass for the coffee table in the corner, matted glass for a few panels that make the door, double glass on the windows... _you get the idea._

Though all that glass does let a lot of natural light filter in so it isn't that bad.

Finding a solid surface to knock onto, on the other hand, is quite the challenge and a necessity for Kageyama since the glass doors just shattered the first time he was there. _That should have told them all they needed to know._ Back then.

He lightly taps on the glass with his fingertips instead, hearing a “ _Come in_ ” from the man he seeks and sure enough, he's at the only desk that isn't made of glass (courtesy of Iwaizumi) on the entire floor he deals with his part of the job from.

“Oh? Tobio-chan?” Oikawa rises from his seat, surprised to see him. He's rarely out of the studio as it is, but to seek out Oikawa himself? _Never_ happened in five years.

It's been a week since he got that invitation. In the mean time, Oikawa's got through the mailing system as well, but it was obvious that there are at least two different senders. Which got Kageyama thoughtful.

“Do you have some time, Oikawa-san?” He asks.

“But of course! Make yourself comfortable.” The older of the two smiles gently as he motions for him to sit down on one of the comfy chairs he had for the clients and people he liked. Ever since Hanamaki took control of his documents, Oikawa has all the time in the world. _But why bother the rest of them with that silly information?_

 

“What can I help you with?” The man turns to him.

“I'd like to find out more about the painting sent to me.” He says, looking Oikawa straight in the eye. Also something that almost never occurred before.

My, he really _is_ changing.

“Alright. What did you have in mind?” Oikawa leans back after taking a good look at him for about a minute.

“I was thinking about accepting the invitation sent to me.”

“...and go alone?”

“Yes.”

Well, that's...

“I don't know-” Oikawa begins, uncertain, all of his doubts and worries resurfacing. They were still nowhere with their little detective play and-

“I _have_ to.” Kageyama says with a determination in his voice Oikawa rarely heard, unless it was something he _really_ wanted. And when he really wanted something, there was usually no stopping him.

“Why do you think you _have_ to go there?” Oikawa changes his approach a bit, seeing that this new side of his precious little kouhai is on the more stubborn side and thankfully, he had more than enough experience with _that one_.

“It's.. _.more of a feeling._..”

“Look, Tobio-chan, it's not that I don't trust you, but...uh...letting you go alone there...is... _more than risky._ ”

They both know what he means, given their recent and altogether history with that kind of stuff, but still.

“I know, Oikawa-san”, _and he knows_ , “it's just that I have seen this one before. Somewhere. I can't really recall where and it's bugging me and I have a really strong sense that I have forgotten something I shouldn't have.”

“...that's the reason you want to go, then?” Oikawa asks, wide eyed, not entirely sure his precious Tobio-chan entrusting him with some _rather personal_ stuff just really happened.

“Yes.” Kageyama says, relaxing a bit.

“Well, I...can't really say that's not a good reason, but...”

And then he sighs. Really, this kid... There are approximately a million and then some more things that could go horribly wrong, and add Oikawa's persistent and nagging feeling that the kidnapping and failed thievery still don't add up and you get all the reasons why he could say no. Tobio-chan here wouldn't mention the matter again.

 

Then again.

 

This _is_ the first thing he _ever asked of him directly._

 

“You know what, to hell with it. I'll clear your schedule and you can go. On the condition that you take someone with you.”

Let's try and not repeat what happened this summer. That's really the only thing Oikawa wants right now.

“Thank you, Oikawa-san.”

“Don't mention it.” The older man smiles. “Seriously. Don't. If anyone working in this building heard of this, I'll be the first they'll hang, so please take care. And find someone to accompany you. I'll even tolerate that new friend of yours.”

“Of course.”

 

“But I am curious, Tobio-chan.”

“About?” He tilts his head a bit, arching a brow.

 

“You've never asked me anything so far.” _What exactly changed?_

“I learnt that I can rely on you.” _Much more than I thought._

 

_Oikawa wasn't sure whether to be extremely proud or extremely concerned._

 

_(He chose proud.)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So today I went to pick up my new (Superman) glasses and there was a Chris Hemswoth fucking replica just less buff at the counter that handed them over and I was holy shit son, these are some good glasses and of all things I could have said, I went with:
> 
> So is this the Ghost Busters?
> 
> (At least he got the joke.)
> 
> (Yay.)


	8. Long distance calls

“ _I sent what you asked for yesterday, it should arrive within this week._ ” Akaashi says over the phone, amusement clear in his voice. “ _So you're going back to photography..._ ”

“Maybe.” Tsukishima says, pressing the phone between his shoulder and his face as he maneuvers a few of his old photo albums.

“ _Where are you right now?_ ”

“Amsterdam. I have a ton of stuff to go through here and sort before I can claim any great comebacks.”

“ _Mhm._ ”

“What?”

“ _Thought you'd be with Kageyama by now._ ” He just won't shut up about t, will he?

“Like hell. I have a shit ton of work to do and so does he for the time being.” Tsukishima says, tone flat with a hint of _mind your own damn business_ as he pushes the sorted out stack back into its place.

“ _My, my. How responsible._ ”

“Yeah, unlike someone _else_ we know.”

“ _Actually, you might have to rethink that one pretty soon._ ”

“Why? Those two decided to open a kindergarten?”

“ _No. Then I'd have one more extra job on the side. I'm busy here at Borghese. A new round of clean up is scheduled for this month and a good deal of the next so I'm up to my neck. What I mean is that they decided to separate and do some outside jobs. Call in a few favours to get them done._ ”

“Oh? What hit them?”

Aside the most probable poisonous look of someone's green eyes.

“ _Let's say the recent events caught up to them._ ”

“You don't say.” That's not all that probable, given how the repeated offence streak led to a _kidnapping_ last time. Let's just hope they don't end up repeating that one. Then the authorities will really be the _last_ of their worries

“ _I'm not one for rumours much, but there is one rather interesting going around your parts. Or, rather, at the crossways._ ”

“Do tell.”

“ _A few works might be in danger._ ”

“Aren't _they all constantly_ in _some_ sort of danger?”

“ _Yes, but rarely like this. Not that I have any intentions getting myself into that mess, but I advise you be careful. That group, if they really are behind those rumours, can be unnecessarily violent._ ”

“Targets?”

“ _Oh, the usual Hollywood classics – London, Paris, maybe even Amsterdam or Berlin._ ”

“Right. I'll take care then.”

“ _One more thing._ ”

“Yes?”

“ _What's your schedule for the second half of November?_ ”

“For now it's free.”

“ _Good. If you can, you might want to keep it that way. I hear someone got a special kind of invite to the grand opening of the newest gallery in Stockholm. Supposed to be all the newest rage; a lot of notable names._ ”

“Dare I even ask how you know that?”

“ _I wouldn't recommend you asking._ ”

“Have it your way.”

“ _But I do know that the newest gallery is not all it might seem to the public eye._ ”

“I have noticed a lot of stirring here and there. Our circles in London are way too jumpy for their own good.”

“ _Can't blame them. If all that I hear – if even a part of what I heard – is remotely true, we all will have quite the surprise on our hands._ ”

“Id' be surprised, too, if one or two groups of people managed to sack a few well known places at the same time half across Europe.”

“ _I did wonder would it be worth the risk._ ” Unless it's a private collector somewhere. Preferably with an few own islands and massive Swiss bank accounts. But even those people had more brains.

“To have them all gathered in Stockholm? That's more of a James Bond scenario than the last few I've seen, if you ask me.”

“ _I_ am _asking you._ ”

“ _Of course, it's could all be a mere coincidence._ ” Akaashi ads after a brief pause. But what better way and timing when all of the people who could get in your way are busy with something else?

“I don't really think it is.”

“ _Well, then._ ”

“Didn't you say you'd stay out of this mess?”

“ _I am._ ”

“So, if I come across any new information, you'd like to know it?”

“ _Please and thank you._ ”

“Just what are your informants doing?”

“ _Their job, but currently, all the main-ways are full of all sorts of information. Too much noise and too little filters._ ”

“Has it occurred to you that the main-roads might be clogged up on purpose.”

“ _That's what worries me a bit._ ”

Worries? Akaashi?

“Akaashi.” Tsukishima stills completely. “What exactly do you know?”

“ _Too little to be sure at this point._ ”

 

But of course. All this small talk is way too casual for Akaashi. So let's see. Stockholm, rumours, plans, Kuroo and Bokuto out to filter out what's going on, invitations, gatherings, big names, James Bond – _ah. So that's what this is all about._

 

“My, Akaashi, you almost had me there for a second.”

" _Did I?_ ” Oh, the amusement. Tsukishima can _feel it through the phone._

“I swear, you have too much free time, even with your job.”

“ _I know._ ”

“I guess I made it on the list.”

“ _That you did._ ”

“Excellent, I'll see where my winter outfit is.”

“ _Bring your camera along._ ” And with that, the line is cut.

 

_Yep, way too much free time,_ Tsukishima thinks as he finally puts the damn phone down.

 

But first, let's make sense of this vague conversation. Akaashi mentioned rumours – he knows them all too well here, like hell are those places going to let people waltz in and out with their possessions, even if the main people are away. Ridiculous. But he did mention a gallery in Stockholm that may not be what it seems, so the rumoured allegedly planned sacking of the most notable names in Europe might just be true, though not in the sense that they all expect by now. The newest gallery is owned by three people, meaning at least one of them has the brains and desires to get something that just might not have to do with any of the things the rumours say.

 

_That person has a vivid imagination as well as time._

 

Tsukishima wonders what exactly they are after. He can't help but to think about the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum theft.

Along some notable paintings, the thieves took some sketches and other less notable works that have significantly less value.

Maybe this is the same thing. And why not? There are things that have a universal value to everyone and there are things priceless to one person and total rubbish to the other.

_One does not simply discuss taste._

 

What else was there? Oh, yes.

_And someone got a special invitation._

 

_Hm, now who could that be_ , he wonders, but not really.

(Leave it to Akaashi to make things sound more complicated than they are. It's a special kind of talent.)

Okay, so a lot of others will get a special invitation as well, that is really not much to go on. Tsukishima had done his research, Kageyama's one of the best there is when it comes to his line of work and he only has like what? Five or so years of experience?

There's gonna be a lot of special invitations in the near future, if Tsukishima's own experiences have anything to add there.

_He looks over at his desk with last week's mail stacked on top of it._

_There's an invitation for Stockholm there, too._

Wouldn't be the first time that there's a demand for a certain person that's good at their job.

 

_But that's more of Oikawa's problem than his, really._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi likes to make things more...interesting, to put it simply.
> 
> (Tsukishima will have none of that shit, though.)


	9. Hello again

So whom to ask? Kageyama sure is in a tight spot here. He ponders over it for the next few days, between work, breaks, phone calls, messages, dinners and the occasional Skype conference.

He can't ask Sugawara-senpai because he's till over at Ushijima's. Asking Matsukawa-senpai would mean they're without two restaurateurs and he can't ask him without asking Hanamaki-senpai because they're (nearly) always in pair, asking Hanamaki-senpai meant that Oikawa-san would be stuck with dealing with mail and documents, asking Iwaizumi-senpai is a definite no go, he's got way too many things to deal with and asking Oikawa-san-

_-is actually not that of a problem, really, considering he's off duty so to speak._

There's this little thing called extremely bad luck when the two of them get involved in stuff but that only ever occurred when Oikawa asked Kageyama for a favour.

 _Asking Oikawa-san it is,_ he decides one morning, unlocking the doors of the prep room, having arrived much earlier than he thought he would. Hell, the sun had yet to rise. Or was that because the seasons changed? Whatever.

Point is, he's there and he's alone.

Hmm...

Might as well use that time for something and be creative.

It's been a while.

Then his gaze falls on his desk and working spot.

...how about being creative and rearranging his own working space a bit? That's been a while, too. Maybe scrape off some layers of dried paint, while he's at it. It's becoming a problem in that left corner.

 

So.

 

Latex gloves on and getting to work.

The others aren't going to show up for another two hours anyway.

“Morning, sunshine.” Hanamaki greets as he peeks through the doors eyes instantly drawn to what is supposed to be Kageyama's work desk.

“Oh, a new desk?” He asks as he walks over to inspect it closer.

“What? No. I just cleaned it.” Kageyama says as he throws away the gloves and switches on the ventilation system.

“Wow.” Hanamaki gapes a bit. “How long did you take? The whole night?”

“Just two hours.”

“For the life of me, I can't remember it being this clean.”

“Neither can I.”

 

And they spend the next ten minutes or so gazing at Kageyama's newly cleaned desk.

“So what has driven you to clean your desk in the first place?” Hanamaki asks as he turns to head for the prep-room.

“Kinda felt like it.” Kageyama says, following him. “There was an oil spot that was getting in the way of proper work.”

“Okay. So what has driven you to get here two hours earlier? The sun wasn't even up then.”

Doesn't he know it.

“I had something on my mind.”

“As to whom to chose to accompany you to Stockholm?” Of course he'd know. When was there anything concerning Kageyama that Hanamaki wasn't aware of?

“Yeah.”

“Whom did you pick?”

“I wondered if Oikawa-san would like to go.”

At that, Hanamaki drops a cup that crashes loudly against the sink, but doesn't break.

“...uh, come again?”

“Is he busy?” Kageyama asks, frowning a bit. If he's busy, then there goes his plan.

“No, of course not.” How could he be? Everyone is doing his job for him here, starting with Hanamaki and ending with Iwaizumi.

“No, I'm just surprised you'd pick him of all people here.”

“Makki-san, you're all busy with your work and I thought...well...uh...”

“Yes?”

“I thought he'd be happy if I asked him to come along. I mean, I never actually spoke to him outside... _all of this._ ” He vaguely gestures to the whole place.

Well...put _that_ way...

“I think he'd be through the roof if you asked him but what I want to know is whether you're sure what you're getting yourself into.” Hanamaki turns to the coffee machine and starts it up.

“I think we'll be fine.” His gut tells him so and so far he's been right about trusting it.

“If you say so...” Hanamaki picks up the cup from the sink, briefly inspecting if there are any cracks on it, before pouring himself some of the dark brown liquid.

“Besides, Iwaizumi-senpai will come after a few days.”

“A few days?” Hanamaki blinks at him. “You're going to accept that invitation sent to you?”

“I am.”

“Do you really think that's a good idea?” Hanamaki's not quite sure it is. Then again, he's not the one who got a mystery package.

“I'm not sure. But it came with that painting and it's been bothering me forever now. I want to see if I can find out more about it and since it came with that invitation, I'd say it's the best clue I've got.” Kageyama says.

“Alright. But don't be too surprised if Iwaizumi joins you earlier on that one than expected.”

“I won't.” Kageyama smiles softly.

They fall into a comfortable silence afterwards, both in their own thoughts.

Kageyama no doubt thinking about that painting and the mystery sender, if that expression on his face is anything to go by and Hanamaki leans back against the counter with a cup in his hands, taking a good look at him.

 

He has no idea what happened during those days he was missing and so far there were no obvious side effects of that brief time either. But there is something else – aside the fact that he's been more...relaxed around them and hell, he even walked over to Oikawa to ask him about that trip. He can't put a finger on it yet, but there is something.

Oh, yes, but of course.

He's relying on them more.

Don't get him wrong – he's still pissed at whomever took him hostage – but in all it's absurdity, maybe that kidnapping was a good thing. Somehow. In a weird way he can't explain yet.

 

_Okay, new plan._

 

 _If he ever finds whoever did that, he'll first thank them and_ then _shove them under a train._

 


	10. Motivation

One cannot describe the overwhelming feeling of triumph and pride and glee Oikawa Tooru felt the moment Kageyama asked him to accompany him to Stockholm.

One simply cannot.

His co-workers couldn't even be pissed or irked about it, because it gave him also a boots of creativity as well as efficiency.

(Kageyama Tobio was apparently magic or some shit.)

(Not that anyone there will ever complain about it.)

(Even Iwaizumi is beyond impressed.)

In fact, neither Iwaizumi nor Hanamaki could remember the last time he had done so much work and actually  _enjoyed_ doing his job without being threatened into doing it in the first place.

Amazing.

No, honestly, maybe those two should hang out more.

Like, Kageyama actually leaves the studio of his own free will and Oikawa reaches a whole new level of motivation.

He obviously needs to get things done before they leave, important stuff, like the renovation of the gallery Oikawa got his first job in, the new shipment of the long awaited collection he bought not two weeks ago, the move of the old collection to another gallery, the packing and sending off of some paintings he's actually trading for that sculpture he's had his eyes on for two years and he and the current owner finally got to an agreement over, the preparation for the exhibit that's scheduled after New Year's...the list goes on and those are just the things he absolutely  _must_ do before he goes.

_Damn it all, was there always this much work to do?_

“Yes.” Iwaizumi says as he comes to collect some documents, reading the pissy look on Oikawa's face with ease as he tries to get the paperwork (always the damn _paperwork_ ) done as soon as possible and without errors, if you please.

“Maybe you should try actually working when you get here in the morning.”

It's an advice well meant, but Oikawa can't shake the feeling of being stung by those words. Whatever, he'll live.

_Because Tobio-chan asked him to go to Stockholm._

He's fully aware he's being a kid over the matter, but count the fucks he gives. He didn't think he'd be this giddy, in lack of a better fitting term for this feeling bubbling inside of him, but he is and he'll be damned if he doesn't exploit it to the max.

Why?

Well that's simple enough.

Now  _he_ , not Sugawara, not Iwaizumi, not Matsukawa and not  _Hanamaki_ , will get the latest in-tell on Kageyama first hand. Ha. Take that you plotting demons.

He trust them all with his life, no doubt there, but he's extremely doubtful when it comes to them telling him about Tobio-chan. (True, he's guilty of a number of shit gone wrong, but even so.) Of all of his employees, he knows the least about him. (Other than the half truths and other info he scraped out of his other employees.)

So, yes, he's so planning to make this trip worthwhile.

 

And...to make up for causing his (accidental) kidnapping.

He's been eating at himself ever since that little episode and no matter how many times he had been told it was not his fault, he can't shake off the feeling that he needs to do something about it personally. His first intention was to track down the people responsible, but he's more likely to stumble over the bunch everyone's whispering about.

He still refuses to ask Tobio-chan about it; more for the fact that he's  _really be a dead man_ if one of his questions triggered something unpleasant there than anything else.

But even all those reasons are half truths as to why he's so excited to spend more time with him.

He can't put his finger on it, but he's always felt somehow responsible for him.

After all, the kid did join in on the art deal because he pestered him into it.

What he really wants to know is – his opinion.

Not hand-me-down confirmations and other's impressions.

His opinion. Of everything.

 

“You do realise that might not work as you imagine it?” Iwaizumi asks him one night as they enjoy a rather stress free evening, curled up on the sofa under a blanket.

“I know.”

“Can you handle it?” Iwaizumi asks next, carefully observing him.

Oikawa is about to reply but stops himself. Or, rather, the look in Iwaizumi's eyes stops him from answering.

“In what sense do you mean that?” He asks.

“Tooru. You know how you deal with things and people that defy your own logic. Can you trust yourself to let things go if they are not what you want them to be?”

That's...actually a valid question.

“I...” Could he? Tobio-chan was more open now than he's ever been before, true, but...

It's quite the blow to his inflated mood,  _thanks Iwa-chan, real party poop-er you turned out to be_ , but he's right. As usual.

He's already conjured up a nice scenario where Tobio-chan decides to pour his heart out the moment they're alone and what not, but it's more than evident that isn't likely to happen. Damn. He actually thought for a moment there that it could.

Another direct confirmation that he barely knows the man, not kid, not any more at least, and they had been working for five years in the same building. How embarrassing.

Shit.

He should also look up the list of paintings and everything else he's been dealing with for those last five years.

One can tell a lot about someone, especially an artist, if one studies how they work.

 

“ _You have that list on you computer.” Iwaizumi informs him and Oikawa has suspicions about him reading minds._

_Iwaizumi rolls his eyes._

“ _Only yours.”_

 


	11. Welcome to Stockholm

The capital of Sweden is really a sight to behold.

 

_Highly recommended to visit during summer when the temperatures are well over some 0.7 to 4.5 °C for November. With the record low of -18°C. What a delight._

 

Fortunately, it's only 2.7°C when Oikawa and Kageyama arrive in the capital. No wind. They're in luck.

It's been, what, seven years since Oikawa was there for more than two-three days? Sure feels like more. Then again, he also can't remember when was the last time he took an actual vacation. The one where he turns off the phone and tosses it out the window for good measure. The one that lasts more than a few days when you add all the hours you could call free.

He now fully understands the looks he got from Hanamaki when he mentioned two months of over due vacation time. _He really does._

Tobio-chan, on the other hand, isn't all that convinced he does.

“I don't see my job as actual work.” He says as they walk down the street with some take out coffee to stretch their legs and make most of a rather pleasant day (for Swedish standards any way) before they catch a few hours sleep in the hotel. The walk is Oikawa's idea (one he's not sure he's gonna regret or not) the moment Kageyama shows interest in talking and somehow it feels the magic will disperse if they haul themselves up in hotel rooms.

“I mean...” He falters a bit and Oikawa has to bite his own lips shut so not to bombard him with questions right off the bat, but he's so, _so_ , tempted to do just that.

“It's fun. I enjoy it. I can't see it as work in the classical sense.” He concludes with a small shrug and a tiny smile to accompany it before falling silent again.

 

_Oikawa Tooru was never this close to start weeping out of the blue like he was in that moment._

_Damn it all, why didn't he turn on the camera or seething to record it?_

 

He actually has to clear his throat so not to sound like a high pitched teen when he _does_ decide to say something.

“I'm glad to hear that”, he manages without squeaking, _barely_ , “but they were right. Taking a day off once in a while”, _or two month in a row that lead to a crisis situation-and here comes the guilt again-shit-let's forget that for a bit_ , “can lead to people being more productive rather than getting out of touch with some things.” _Also, works in reverse._

“Yes”, Kageyama agrees, “but I find it more helpful when I'm doing my own stuff. Not restoring other's.”

“You paint your own things?” Oikawa blinks at him, curiosity woken.

“Uh...sometimes?” Kageyama admits and Oikawa can' tell if that red on the tips of his ears is from the cold or something else. “I'm not the artist type in that sense – if I did paint something, that was more for the purpose of getting a technique down.”

_Oikawa would kill to see those._

“I can show you some if you like? They're not all that great, though.”

_God exists. And no one can convince Oikawa otherwise._

“I'd love to see them.” He smiles politely, surprising himself how he managed that without exploding like a kettle. Must be the weather. _Yep, definitely the weather_ , he thinks as a cold wind picks up. He's so not used to this. He should have come about a month earlier to accommodate. Next time he will. Preferably without having to chase after mystery invites.

Speaking of which.

“Any news about the invitation?” _God, he can feel the wind in his bones, what the heck._

“Not yet.” The younger says, looking absolutely fine in this weather. Must be his German side. Now he's sounding racist. Or something. It's kinda hard to think in this cold. And the weather in Stockholm is more than 20°C milder than in many areas _this_ far north.

“It does state to be in the _Nordiska museet._ In two days time.”

“...you speak Swedish?” Oikawa blinks.

“Not really. If they speak really slowly, I could maybe understand some words. _If_ they're somewhat German sounding.”

“Close enough.” Oikawa concludes. His foreign language data base consists of a half broken German phrases because he really doesn't have a hearing for it. English? Yes. French? Okay. Italian? Why not. Russian? Not that great spoken, but he can understand it. Actually, he's making progress with it. _German?_ _Exceptionally lost on him._

“Iwaizumi has some Spanish down.” He says, somewhat lost in thought.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak Spanish?”

“Not really. I can understand it well enough, but don't ask me to actually speak it.” Right, there's that one, too. He should pick up the slack on that one. Wouldn't hurt.

Iwa-chan would surely lend a helping hand. Or tongue.

“Maybe we should get inside?” Kageyama offers.

“Huh?” He blinks up at him.

“Your face is all red from the cold, Oikawa-san.”

_Maybe not the cold exactly..._

...but yeah, some place warm wouldn't hurt. His half frozen finger securely in his pockets and gloves wouldn't mind that one bit.

Dying and going to heaven must feel like entering a warm place after nearly freezing one's ass off. No. Really. The bliss and comfort that overwhelms one is without compare. In Oikawa's opinion.

After getting a change of clothes, they meet up by the reception before heading to the hotel's cafe. Oikawa chose this one because somewhere in his mind it was labelled as a great choice. Memory served him right. Both the ambient and the atmosphere of the place is beyond amazing. He considers having one of his residences renovated with this particular style as an inspiration. Not turning it into a cafe or hotel, obviously, but there is something about the Scandinavian design that...relaxes him. Simple forms and colours. Innovative. Almost playful. Definitely on the modern side, compared to what he has back home.

It comes as a very welcome change from what he's been seeing for the last few months.

One can get fed up with the classics after a while and that's normal but truthfully, Oikawa's not exactly an expert on the newest modern art. He relies on his own natural instinct and keen eye for quality stuff in those cases and he's rarely wrong. One of the perks of being him.

Speaking of quality stuff.

One thing strikes him as they're in the middle of a casual conversation. Okay, two things.

First, he can't remember Tobio-chan ever being this conversational. Like, ever. Not that they had much contact in the first place, other than the few occasions where he had him accompany him and Iwaizumi (sometimes Matsukawa and Sugawara as well) to the galleries of Europe in his second and fourth year of college with short trips here and there elsewhere in the world.

Even that time they were more concentrated on the _teaching and learning_ segment rather than the _getting to know this kid better_ one.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, Kageyama Tobio was this quiet, obedient, eager to know student who paid very close attention to detail. He has a great memory, too. _When he's interested_ , Oikawa corrects himself there, because he's witnessed a few times how oblivious he could be if not.

(That one time he misunderstood which Monet Oikawa had been talking about never failed to put a smile on Oikawa's lips. He was talking about a cafe and it's interior design. Kageyama completely missed the point and started talking about the painter.)

Oikawa ended up being reminded of that part of art history back then and it still stuck with him now.

Their conversation entered a brief pause period as Oikawa turned his attention to his hot chocolate and Kageyama to his phone that had vibrated just then.

And that's the other thing that comes like a awakening slap to the face.

That smile. That spark in his eyes. His deep blue eyes. No, not quite right. Persian blue eyes with a hint of ultramarine and his dark hair framing them.

 

_Holy shit._

_Dear Lord, he had been blind._

_But now he sees._

_Why Hanamaki turns into a dragon and hisses molten acid lava when it comes to him. And Iwaizumi and Matsukawa and Sugawara._

_Sweet birth of Venus, this kid is pretty like a picture. Nah, scratch that. He's gorgeous. Like, damn, son._

_To think. He had this precious little gem all hauled up in his studio, away from the eyes of the world._

_He should really pay more attention to his employees._

 

But how the hell did he not see this before??

Well, never mind that now. He saw the light. Finally.

 

And now all the guilt and doubt came back crashing on him like a ton of bricks, crippling him in his seat. He now _really hopes_ that-

_Shit._

“Tobio-chan?” He speaks quietly, dread creeping uncomfortably up his spine, chilling the blood in his veins; earning his undivided attention on the spot.

“Yes?”

Fuck. Screw everything. He needs to know.

“They didn't... _do_...anything to you?” He asks, pretty much on instinct here.

“I'm sorry?” Yeah, okay. That's way too vague.

“When you were kidnapped.” Oikawa elaborates, putting down his cup, trying to still his hand so it doesn't start shaking. “They didn't do anything to hurt you?”

Where that came from is a mystery to Kageyama and he's really not keen on talking about that right now, not with Oikawa, in light fear he might see through him. He's not comfortable lying to the people who care so much about him but he's also not about to compromise the other side. He knew Oikawa well enough to know that he wouldn't take the explanation of all being a stupid coincidence and accident all too well.

“No.” He says softly, hopefully in a reassuring way, seeing Oikawa starting to look like he would faint any second now. “Nothing really happened.”

Aside from that nosebleed and one other...uh...more private situation...they more or less treated him like a house guest. A more _important_ house guest. As much as it pains him to worry Oikawa, those are some details he'll keep for himself.

Seeing Oikawa relax after a minute or two sparks a tiny sense of accomplishment in him and pretty much tells him he hadn't lost that _diplomat's-kid-staying-cool-as-a-mid-winter-breeze-in-tense-situations_ demeanour at all. Good to know he still has it in him.

Not that he'll use it all that much.

“I'm sorry for jumping at you”, Oikawa says, exhaling deeply, leaning back into his seat, offering a small reassuring smile, “I was just so worried.”

Even in a world with fake smiles and deceits, Oikawa can afford himself to be honest from time to time.

“I'm sorry for worrying you.” Kageyama says and really feels that way.

“Nah, don't be. It's not your fault.”

Maybe not that part, but... _yeah._

“No...I...” He begins, contemplating his next words for a second. “I didn't realise how much you all cared for me until that situation happened.”

Oikawa was honest, he could tell, and what the heck, might as well tell one truth while they're on the subject.

“I...thought I was...not exactly unimportant...but...” and speaking went back to what it usually was for him when having to share his personal feelings instead of pre-learnt speech and behavioural patterns for situations like this, “uhm...how do I put it...”

“...like you're supposed to deal with it on your own?” Oikawa offers, hitting that nail right on the head.

 

_He could have put on the neutral face and dismissed it._

“...yes.”

_But that wouldn't be fair._

 

And this is where Oikawa can flail his awesome senpai and even more awesome boss skills. Which he does.

“I know that feeling.” _And boy, does Iwaizumi, too._

“But I'm also glad that you feel you can trust us.”

 

 _And that was a truth that went for both._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, my half writer's block crisis seems to have ceased. Have some OiKage senpai-kouhai-something fluff.


	12. Past encounters

_A brush dips into a cerulean blue before dragging some of the paint with it as it goes over to the small speck of untainted white. The two colours mix together and create a sea. That sea is then applied on white canvas over and over again as the second year student works on yet another assignment. He's alone in the studio with a pair of extremely twisted and knotted headphones connected to his phone, filling his mind with some instrumental ambient music._

_He prefers working alone – less distractions and no annoying questioners to tend to._

_Well..._

_He did prefer working alone, until a very confused and very...open-minded...freshman waltzed in, clearly lost, with a piece of paper no doubt littered with basically useless info._

_The moment he turned his head around to see who stopped dead in their tracks so abrupt, a beautiful friendship was born._

 

_Or so he likes to present it._

 

Some years later, the once second year art student is on the plane to Stockholm, with an invitation between his fingers and a distant look in his eyes.

It's been four years since their encounter, he recalls, wondering if he would still recognise him.

Speaking of which, he arches an eyebrow as he steals a glance of someone's watch,

_he was late._

The plane had entered a small weather inconvenience, delaying the flight some fifteen minutes. Not that he minded it, it  _was_ November, after all. It would be ridiculous if the weather was actually fine. But never mind that, delayed flights and weather forecasts were not the subject of his attention – the fastest way to get to his actual destination was.

After all, inviting someone over and then not showing up on time would be more than rude.

(Not that the person in question would even notice him being late – he could get immersed into his own little thing like that.)

Still, it wouldn't be right.

 

A curtly greet on his way in and then out the usual place he stays at and he's out the doors of his hotel in no time.

 

_There's a museum he needs to visit._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writer's block + some unexpected week of unexpected vacation time (I was abducted and forced to take some time off) + a wedding to attend to == very late with update


	13. Old friends

It's been twenty minutes since the invitation's indicated time and there was still no sign of anyone who would remotely fit the  _mystery person sending out mystery invites_ description out of all the visitors at the museum. Needless to say, Oikawa is not pleased.

Even less so, since it's by now obvious that  _Tobio-chan totally forgot what he's doing there in the first place_ . He's been captivated by the exhibition (go figure) and completely forgot about the time. Luckily, he's still in the same room. At least Oikawa has that in his favour while he's busy leaning behind doors and sneaking around corridors, trying to do what is essentially Iwa-chan's job (and he's amazingly good at it) but alas Iwa-chan is not here right now so Oikawa decided to test his spy skills or whatever were those skills called. Stealth? Yeah, something like that.

So Oikawa can deduce two things from this mystery person even if they're not even there yet.

 

First, they're not a punctual person.

And second.

They know Kageyama Tobio well enough to have him wait where he'll be easily distracted and not bothered if they ended up late.

 

Hmm.

Clever mystery person.

But that is still no excuse to let him wait.

Oikawa checks his watch.

_For half an hour._

Maybe it's all a ruse. Or a joke. No one with good or bad intentions lets people wait half an hour for them. That's just rude. Besides, the longer it takes, the chances of Oikawa being recognised rise. It doesn't even have to be anyone of the visitors. All it takes is one curator or-

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that you, Oikawa-san?”

-a manager he'd been promising to visit for the last, oh, let's say, century or so. Not that he avoided the man, not the least, but somehow something always got in the way of him actually keeping that promise. It took the manager some three steps to get to Oikawa and shake his hand with open enthusiasm.

“Now this is what I call a welcome surprise!” The man smiled brightly and Oikawa knew then and there that there was no escaping it. _Shit on a stick_.

“When did you get here? How was your trip? Oh, before that, there's something I need to show you, you're going to just _die_ -”

He's already dying as he's promptly dragged by the man over to his office, not given a moment's chance to say something in return (though, he can't really blame the man, he brought this upon himself) and all he can do now is pray nothing happens while he's away on a no doubt long, _long_ catching up session.

Not that Kageyama noticed any of his own boss's half abduction from the corridors of the museum, he's stuck with admiring the _Home and Interior_ collection dating from 1562 onwards, taking in every single detail he could. (Oikawa's proud he's got another thing in common with him.)

The thing that snaps him out of his fascination is the sudden silence that surrounds him, seeing how he ended up alone there, with the rest of the visitors moving on to another exhibition. He looks around and there's really not a single soul around. He's about to call Oikawa to check where he is when a pair of hands covers his eyes and he stands still like a statue for a moment before reaching up to remove those inoffensive hands obscuring his view.

“Hey there, handsome.” The taller of the two says with a small smile playing on his lips, reflecting fully in his eyes.

Kageyama blinks at him, staring.

And then it clicks.

“Ah...”

The smile turns into a full blown grin when recognition flashes over those blue eyes, now wide in surprise.

 

* * *

 

 

“So what do you think?” The manager of the _Nordiska Museet_ looks at Oikawa expectantly as they're standing in front of a soon to be opened for public exhibition of Sweden's traditional folk clothing throughout history. From the earliest to the latest, everything was on display. Some garments were originals from that point in time, some where newly sewn going by various descriptions in historical books and others were gifts given to the museum by the local families.

Oikawa, on his part, couldn't say all that much considering he was star struck at the sight of it all.

And there was even a few matrimonial garments on display.

Oikawa could feel himself tear up a bit.

_Internally._

“I...This is amazing.” He managed, eyes glued to a pair of knit slippers.

“I know this isn't your field of expertise, but I figured you'd want a break from it anyhow.”

“You've got that right.” Oikawa mutters, admiring the stitching. He may not know a lot about that, or nothing about it in this case, but even he can tell that is a very fine work.

“It took us about a year and two months to get this all together. I must say, I'm very pleased to have managed it.” The manager, also known as Klas Bergsten, says, opening a showcase to adjust a piece that slipped off the doll wearing it.

“Congratulations, this just might be a hit.” Oikawa laughs.

He's met the man a few years back on some gathering of families or the other, when he was still being under his father's wing and basically had everything he needed to know drilled into him and Bergsten over there, adjusting a skirt, had been one of the few people he could easily talk to without being in constant fear of how this or that might look or affect him.

Maybe because Bergsten really enjoyed his chosen career path unlike Oikawa who had to learn to like it along the way. Right, that was after the...more intimate encounter with a certain Ushijima.

Okay, so he ran off to Sweden after that one, so sue him.

He'd do it all over again.

Klas Bergsten had a certain way to make one relax and forget their troubles with a fine combination of humour, Scandinavian proverbs and maybe some hand-picked domestic liquor. But nothing in excess.

Also, he's the number one guy you go to when in doubt over all things Scandinavian in terms of interior design.

Speaking of which.

“Bergsten, you wouldn't have some ideas in terms of redesigning the interior of a house without too much wall breaking, would you?” Oikawa turns to him just as he closes and locks the showcase, deeming the puppet decent enough to be shown in public.

Oikawa could practically see the happy aura rise and wrap around him.

“What did you have in mind?” He asks as they make way through the exhibition.

“Everything that Sweden stands for in terms of atmosphere.”

“I think I have the right thing for you.” He says, walking over to another showcase to inspect the display. “Maybe two or three, when I think about it.”

“I'm all ears.”

“I'll show you some sketches I've been doodling in my spare time. Let me know what you think. Is this standing straight?”

Oikawa tilts his head at the hat one of the puppets.

“A little bit to the left. Perfect.”

“You came to that grand opening thing, didn't you?” Bergsten asks as they continue their walk. “But of course, I should have thought about it right away. How'd you manage to find the time?”

“I have an excellent team that managed to squeeze that into my schedule.” Oikawa says, grinning.

“Must be nice.” Bergsten replies with a smirk of his own. “I had plans to visit Japan since three years ago but I keep getting myself into projects that take up every single second. Well, either that or some crisis or another keep popping up. Heard you had quite some stress of your own this summer.”

“Unfortunately, yes; but that ended up resolved in quite the happy manner.” Somewhat. There are a still a few loose ends and piece that don't fit but all in all, it ended up great.

“I'm glad to hear that.” His through and through Swedish friend pats his back before lowering his voice a bit.

“I also have no doubts you heard the latest rumours concerning your own profession?”

“Of course.”

“I have a few new rumours hot off the press from my own network.”

“Do tell.”

“There is a plan but it might be blown out of proportions.” Bergsten says, frowning a bit, more disappointed than anything, because that man lived for intrigues and rumours.

“Remember that incident with the Degas? Some years back? The gallery in New York?”

“Yeah, I remember it.” He just missed the whole fuss seeing how he boarded a plane not two hours earlier. “Can't say they were the smartest bunch.”

“That's the thing, my friend, I hear from my network that was merely a practice attempt to check out the newest wiring and alarm system.”

“Are you saying it could be an inside job?” Oikawa raises a brow.

It happened, on occasions, that a few employees or just one, grew bored of their daily routine and sided with the Sith, so to speak, to make things more interesting or profitable.

“I wouldn't be surprised. Happened before.”

“So out of all those rumours only one could be the real thing?”

“Maybe. If it's true, then we have on our hands a pretty little network of lies within our ranks. Think about it, if that is really the case, that's a damn good plan and a hell of a lot of trust between the culprits to be. Who would stop any one of them to sell their plan out?”

“I agree. Do you think it could have anything to do with the new gallery business?”

“Oh that? No, not that I know of. If anything, there's a different kind of danger lurking there.”

“Like what?”

“Hear they're out to get them some talented hands. I know I'm on their list.”

“They have a keen eye, that's for sure.”

“Flattery won't get you far here.” Bergsten laughs, amused. “Though I should warn you, there's a considerable amount of names on their lists.”

“Where the hell do you get that info, I want in on your network.” Oikawa pouts, but only for a moment. “Why should I be warned? Am I also on their list?”

“Sadly, no. You run quite a few places as well as own them. They're after the spinal cords of the finest.”

“Ugh, that sounds vile.” Oikawa cringes a bit. Not too fond of all those medical terms Bergsten likes to use. Though, he's pretty much accurate with those.

“That Matsukawa fellow still works with you?”

“Yes.” Wait a second. “ _He's_ on the list?”

“Uh-uh. And some of Ushijima's, if I'm not mistaken, and some other fellow...uh...not sure about the name, heard he's a rising star in your midst...” He tired to recall the name, but came out blank, “no, nothing, sorry. I can't recall. If nothing else, I'm sure he'll get an invite, too.”

“You wouldn't happen to have one of those on you?” Oikawa asks, suspicion raising in him.

“You wound me, Oikawa.” Bergsten puts on a show of mock offense, but reaches for the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Here you go. That's some fancy writing they used there, if you ask me.”

“Yes...” Oikawa takes the envelope, looking at an awfully familiar piece of paper. “...that it is.”

“What? Did Matsukawa get one already?” Bergsten can't help but notice the familiar expression of defiance and distaste on Oikawa's face.

“No.”

“But someone else did?”

“I'm not sure.” He has to admit. “It's very similar, yes, but not the same.”

“Now that you mention it”, Bergsten muses, “there's also a rumour you are hiding someone.”

“Maybe.”

“Spill, Oikawa. You know I like my gossip straight from the source.”

“I wouldn't say hiding, Bergsten, he's reclusive by his own nature.”

“So there is someone?”

“Would you like to meet him?” Oikawa offers with a smile gracing his face once more.

“But of course. When?”

“Right now.”

“He's here?” Bergsten lights up like a firework.

“Yep.”

“Where exactly?”

“At the interior bit. He's waiting for-” And he cuts himself off, eyes wide in horror, startling his colleague.

_Crap._

_He totally forgot._

 

“What's the rush?!” Bergsten asks as they're both running towards the east wing of the museum; his tie hitting him square across his face while he runs.

“I'll explain later, hurry!”

 

_Oh, dear Lord, please let Tobio be where he left him. Please._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Oikawa. Another thing they have in common here. Get easily distracted.


	14. Not quite intentional

“And for the next three weeks, he was in his blue mode. Literally.”

Kageyama can't help but laugh at that. That's why there are labels for body paint. You can't use regular one and expect it to wash off as easily. Good thing it wasn't of the toxic kind.

Oikawa collapses on the floor with relief when he hears him laugh from the interior design section, seated on a bench for visitors next to someone awfully familiar but name and occupation currently unreachable as his brain and everything else literally swim in relief that washed over him.

Bergsten is the picture of a confused man that ran half his own museum to discover – he doesn't know _what_ exactly.

Though, seeing Oikawa turned into a puddle on the floor is quite amusing.

 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, leaning over him.

“Yeah.” Oikawa manages. “Everything's peachy.”

“Alright then.” Bergsten smiles. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he reaches for it to read the message, making a face when he does.

“Sorry to cut things short, but I have to leave now, before my assistants kill each other.” He says, pocketing the phone back into his coat. “Are you free this evening?”

“I am.”

“How's drinks at the usual place sound? We can handle introductions then.”

“What's wrong with now?” Oikawa asks as he gets up from the floor with Bergsten's help, taking the hand he offers.

“Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt.” The man smiles and looks over his shoulder. “Seems like a moment.”

“Huh?”

Now Oikawa's peeking over his shoulder and lo and behold, Bergsten's _not wrong_ in his assumption. Sure looks...suggestive. Then again, the guy saw what was known as fan-service in a cup of tea, so Oikawa won't be taking his opinion all too seriously.

“You know what, you could join me on resolving a little situation.” Bergsten opts as he begins walking away, dragging Oikawa with him again.

“Heard you have a wonderful relationship with your assistants so maybe you could help out?”

“I don't-”

“I'll send you that statue over you wanted.”

“ _Where are they?_ ”

 

Ten minutes later he sends Tobio-chan a message, telling him to not get kidnapped this time around, _please_ , while he tends to his friend and his troublesome assistants. Totally out of courtesy and not because of that gorgeous piece of art he saw way back then.

Tobio-chan replies with a: _I'll do my best_ and Oikawa's content.

 

* * *

 

“So what brings you here, exactly?” The taller of the two asks, leaning back against the bench.

“This.” Kageyama says, holding out the invite.

“Oh, so you got it?” He asks with a small quirk of his lips.

“... _you_ sent it?” Kageyama can't help but to smile, half relieved, half amused. He half figured he might be the one behind the whole thing, but one can never be too sure. Then again, if he recalls correctly, he's always been like that. Never straight to the point if he didn't need to be.

The other gave off a half guilty shrug.

“Like the painting?”

“I _love_ it.”

“Thought you would.” He arches a brow in amusement.

 _He really hasn't changed a bit_ , he thinks.

“It's really amazing.” Kageyama says, smiling wide.

Yup, still the same Kageyama Tobio he's met back in the day.

“Any plans for tonight?”

“Not really. Except maybe meeting a few people. Oikawa-san mentioned it on the way here. Not sure, though.”

“Look at you. Rubbing elbows with the finest. Who would have thought you'd get so far?”

“Yeah, you're the one to talk.” Kageyama smirks. “With the way you smeared paint on the floor.”

“Guilty as accused. Thankfully, I had you to waltz in and tell me to get my shit together.” He admits.

“I didn't say it _that_ way.”

“Yeah, you were more to the point and polite than the rest of them.”

“...what kind of people did you hang out with if _I_ was polite?” The younger of the two asks, arching a brow at him, recalling the event.

“Dreadful ones.” He offers nonchalantly.

“But that aside, I have a favour to ask, if you're up to it?”

Kageyama gives hims a curiously intrigued look. He rarely, if ever, asked for favours.

“What is it?”

 

* * *

 

Oikawa finally helped mediate through the fight, thankfully, and wondered why Bergsten even _had_ that much of opposites as assistants anyway. Nothing against it, but it's one thing to deal with contrasts on walls and another to deal with contrasts in people. He was nearly running again as he noticed whole two hours passed without checking in on Tobio-chan. Oikawa was really pushing his luck here. Although, _he'd be really thankful_ if he could brush it all off as mere paranoia.

 

_To: Tobio-chan_

_Are you still in the museum? Not kidnapped?_

 

Never hurt to ask.

 

_From: Tobio-chan_

_I'm fine. Still in the museum. Though near the entrance._

 

Oh, great, he's still fine. And on premises. Oikawa can now breathe a bit. Then another message chimes in.

 

_From Tobio-chan:_

_I met the person who sent me the invite._

 

Oikawa nearly screeched dead in his tracks as he read the message. Bergsten almost crashed into him, following closely behind.

“You should really stop doing that, you know?” The man says. “What is it now?”

Bergsten almost jumps from the speed at which Oikawa turns to him.

“ _What's the quickest way to the exit form here?_ ”

Bergsten merely points out the way.

And hurries behind Oikawa again.

 

It's puzzling and amusing to boot and also a bit horrible having Oikawa run around the place in near panic as they make their way to the front of the museum, trying not to knock something over in the process. He'll definitely have to sit the man down and let him in on the reason for his erratic state of being.

 _And he's pretty sure_ it has to to with that young man in the interior exhibition room who now stands near the exit.

“You must be Kageyama Tobio.” Bergsten says as he reaches a hand out.

“Yes. You must be Mr. Bergsten.” He replies, taking his hand in a nice firm grip and shakes it slight.

“Indeed I am.” He smiles wide and cheerful.

“I'm sorry I took so long.” Oikawa says, giving him a quick once over to make sure he's fine.

“Say, who was that with you?” Bergsten chimes in, looking as curious as a little kid.

 _I hate you_ , Oikawa thinks as he sends a half glare over his shoulder.

“Sakusa-senpai.” Kageyama answers right off the bat. “We met in college.”

_I adore you,_ Oikawa re-thinks as he sends a half approval over his shoulder.

 

Another curiosity about Tobio-chan he simply  _has_ to know. Though, knowing Tobio, he also knows that might be tricky. Luckily, he's got the right person with him. Bergsten could make people talk. Nothing illegal, just to make sure.

 

“ _Say, Tobio-chan”, he smiles, patting his shoulders in a friendly manner, “would you care to join us for dinner?”_

 

_Iwaizumi, along with Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Sugawara, when he returns, are so going to kill him for this barely ethical move but hell, they're not here right now to make him feel actually guilty._

 

_Passing up this platinum gold extra diamond gloss opportunity would be positively criminal._

 

_He'll regret this later._

 

_If ever._

 


	15. Tell me your secret

Kageyama Tobio is a tough one.

They'll have to admit that.

The evening goes by in a pleasant atmosphere, but Kageyama manages to bypass all and every attempt to find out something more about – well – anything – at this point, but to no avail.

Eventually, Bergsten excuses himself for the evening, expressing his delight in meeting the young man.

Oikawa's on his fourth glass of red wine, cheek pressed against his hand as he sighs in defeat. Iwaizumi was right. (When was he not, actually?) There's no getting anything out of this kid if he's not willing to share.

 

_Well,_ he thinks, taking another sip of his wine,  _at least he knows the name of the guy Kageyama went to art school with._

_Also,_ he's _still the one he asked to accompany him._

That's enough to bring back a smile on his lips.

He really shouldn't press that much.

 

He starts wondering what Iwa-chan's up to now. Probably still sleeping, given the time difference. He must be hugging that stupid pillow of his. He always does when they are separated. How he knows? He walked in on that particular scene. Once.

_Great, now he's jealous of a damn pillow._

 

“So how are things with...what's his face?” Oikawa decides to ask. Against the voice of reason, _Iwa-chan's_ , in his head. (It's a _really good_ wine.)

Kageyama blinks at him, confused.

_Damn_ , he thinks, blinking the pleasant warmth away,  _he'll have to focus_ . And be more specific.

“ _Tsukishima_. I mean Tsukishima.” He manages to recall the name. If not the exact face. He knows he was in photography, but that's not exactly Oikawa's field of other interests. He should correct that. Pretty soon.

The pleasant half buzz and cosy warmth layering on top of him suddenly evaporate from him, leaving him wide awake when a light pink colour dusts Tobio-chan's cheeks. Oh, god, his ears are burning and that is so cute.

_Maybe_ there was some hope for him after all.

 

“Everything's...okay.”

_Just_ okay? Oikawa thinks, but remains silent as he turns all his attention towards him.

“I mean, we're both busy right now.”

_Yeah, that's understandable,_ Oikawa smiles gently at him, letting him talk. Iwa-chan better reward him for this. It's hard to remain quiet with four glasses of wine in your system when Tobio-chan's the one talking to him and all he wants right now is to smother him in blankets and make him spill  _everything_ . But that's not about to happen.

Then he becomes quiet for a moment and Oikawa seriously has to fight himself not to start rambling.

“I...”

_Yes, yes, tell me, what is it,_ is what Oikawa mind repeats in hopes his mouth decided to play along but no luck there.

“...is it weird to miss someone a lot? When you only know them for a few months?”

_Honey, I declared Iwa-chan my one and only husband the day I learned those words,_ he blinks at him, pretty sure he got the message.

The light pink flush of his cheeks turn a shade deeper and Oikawa both knows he got the message and wants to squeal internally while taking a bunch of pictures of him and send them to Hanamaki.

But.

He should be the responsible adult here.

Even if that prospect is really,  _really_ tempting.

“It's not weird.” He begins, twirling the glass in his hands, mind wandering a bit through memory lane. “There's nothing wrong with feeling affection for someone.”

Speaking of which.

“ _Did I interfere with that?_ ” He asks quietly, more of an afterthought than an actual question for Kageyama.

“With what?”

_Too soon, brain_ , Oikawa thinks but can't dodge the question now.

“I know how much effort you put into all of your studies. And I know you barely had time for anything else. I was just wondering if I gone in the way of something else that you might have wanted.”

Wow, he sounds  _so_ mature. He should get the name of this stuff he drinks.

“Of course not. It's not like you pointed a gun at my head and forced me into it. I chose this myself. And I really enjoy it.”

Oikawa could fucking cry. He really could.  _Iwa-chan. You better make those cookies._

“It gave me a chance to think about some stuff.”

“Like what?” Oikawa asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I...didn't start my...uh... _self-discovery_ ”, he makes a slight face at the word and Oikawa can't help but snort lightly, “on good terms and you and everyone else came just at the right time.”

“Thank you.” He says suddenly and Oikawa can feel his jaw drop.

“I mean it.” Kageyama says, not knowing of the storm of feels he unleashed in Oikawa just then. “Everyone helped me out a lot. I don't think I would be able to get to where I am now without your help.”

_That_ was more true than anything else.

 

_Calm down Oikawa._

_You can do this._

_You don't have to start crying in the middle of a restaurant._

_Even if you_ really _want to right now._

 

_Wow, I'm such a sap_ , is the thought that manages to keep him together.

 

“Anytime, kid.” Oikawa reaches out to ruffle his hair in affection – the first time he ever did that – _don't cry_ – as he practically melts inside.

“ _Feel free to ask for us whenever you need us._ ”

 

They move on to palpably lighter themes over the course of the evening. Oikawa lays off the wine and gets himself a strong black coffee. Not that's he's driving or anything, but it wouldn't hurt to wake up in the morning  _without_ feeling like someone hit him in the head with a shovel.  _Repeatedly_ .

Tobio-chan's much slower with his glass, seeing it was only his second one. Oikawa can't decide if that's because he's not much of a wine person or if he'd feel really bad if he got drunk with his boss. Not that Oikawa would care even if he did. He was legally and adult and in his opinion, better get drunk with someone you know than someone you don't know.

_And that thought is more or less his cue to stop._

He has a feeling Iwaizumi's gonna know about that particular thought and then see how he's gonna explain his unintentional unconscious attempt to get his youngest employee drunk.

_Yes, waiter, make it a double one. Bitter black. Thank you._

“Excuse me, Tobio-chan. I'll be right back.” He says as he gets up, graceful as ever, because he's Oikawa Tooru. He never gets tipsy in public.

Damn, Iwa-chan better order a statue of him for this.

He feels quite accomplished.

 

_He feels so much more accomplished when upon his return he gets a glimpse of the table he and Tobio-chan occupy and lo and behold, there's a damn handsome stranger engaged into a conversation with Tobio-chan._

_The same one he was in the museum with._

_Shit, maybe Bergsten was right. Maybe there is something there. Or maybe it's the wine talking after all. But he could_ swear-

_He can still prove or disprove his point by spyi-uh- keeping an eye on things behind the corner. Which he does._

 

“Having fun, Oikawa-san?” A voice asks, all sweet and _suga_ ry.

“Immensely.” He smiles wide as he turns.

_The smile quickly falters as he sees the dragon and knight squad, all but glaring at him._

 

_A shovel sounds so great right now._

 

_(So much for responsible adult in the house.)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A double update?


	16. Of dragons and knights

“ _You tried to setup Kageyama on a date with another guy even if he already has someone?_ ” Hanamaki asks, outraged, and there are three individuals staring at him with a blank look.

“ _Without me?_ ” He scowls, completely ignoring the looks while still staring down a very tiny Oikawa.

Sugawara and Matsukawa return to their food with a satisfied nod, muttering, _now that's more like it_ , and then Iwaizumi looks at _them_ suspiciously, making a mental note to remove Kageyama from their vicinity at some near point in the future. Just in case.

“You all should get your head examined.” Iwaizumi states, scowling. “Kageyama shouldn't-”

Hanamaki turns his attention to him, his stare cutting him off.

“First of all, he can do whatever the heck he wants. Second, if they have a problem with it, well, sucks to be them.”

“What are you even-” And then it sinks. “ _You really think he'd be up for that sort of thing?_ ”

“I don't know and I don't care.”

“ _What the-_ ”

“Dude, you have _no idea_.” Hanamaki emphasises the word to the point of his voice cracking with feelings. “How good it feels to see him surrounded by people.”

“And _hotties_ at that.” He ads. “For all I care, I'll make sure he gets _all_ the dates without trouble.”

Wow. Just. Wow. Hanamaki. Your dedication to the cause it...borderline fanatic.

“Makki. Calm down.”

“I _am_ calm.”

“Then calm some more down.” Matsukawa speaks softly, amusement thick in his voice. “Has it ever occurred to you that not all people are after him in that sense?”

“Of course they are, don't be absurd.”

“Right.”

And that's about all the interference Matsukawa's gonna do. Sugawara is the next to speak.

 

“As much as it surprises me, I agree with Hanamaki.” He says, earning a few looks. “But I don't think we should be prying, else we might get him into trouble.”

“ _Are you all serious?_ ” Iwaizumi dreads, looking way too exasperated for someone how was fine not two minutes ago. “ _Do you have any idea how you sound like?_ ”

“All I'm saying I'm there to help out with anything and everything.” Hanamaki states, sitting down on the first chair available in the room.

“How about asking him things for a start?” Iwaizumi suggests. You know. Just so.

Hanamaki looks at him incredulous.

“ _Have you ever met the kid?_ ”

Iwaizumi ends up pinching the bridge of his nose so hard, Oikawa thinks he might break it.

And while they're all suggesting scandalous things and whatnot, Oikawa does the one thing he never thought he would do. But desperate times called in for desperate measures. Because it really looked like the three of them would have his precious Tobio-chan date several people at the same time.

He pulls out his phone and sends a message.

 

The recipient arches his brow at the content of it.

It's 2 am in Amsterdam.

 

“Where is Kageyama anyway?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Oh, he's still at the restaurant.” Oikawa all but chirps, happy to be of some use.

And he quickly sinks into his spot on the sofa at the staring contest going on between Hanamaki and Iwaizumi. He never thought he'd live to see this day.

How the heck did things escalate this much?

 

* * *

 

“Your boss is sure taking his time.” Sakusa notes, quietly.

True to his words, it's been over twenty minutes. Kageyama blinks, internally cursing himself for not noticing earlier.

“You don't mind if I...”

“No, please, go ahead.” Sakusa offers a small smile as he waves his hand.

Kageyama proceeds to pull his phone out, typing a text. It's not very likely he fell into the toilet or got locked in, but he _did_ take his time.

“Oh.” He blinks, again, as the man replies, but he's not sure how to react at the response.

“What is it?”

“He's not even here.”

“...”

“Unbelievable.” Kageyama slightly scoffs, as he scrolls down the _letter_ Oikawa sent him. “They're all here?”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Everything's fine. My boss and co-workers only thought it funny to leave me here.” Was it his turn on prank week? But that couldn't be right. Prank week wasn't until March. God knows what they're thinking _this_ time.

Damn, did he drag Oikawa out to another country across the globe in the middle of some important work? Shit.

Sakusa makes himself a bit more comfortable. Well...if _that's_ the case...

“Would you mind if I kept you company for the rest of the evening?” He asks, snapping Kageyama out of his brain-storming.

“You aren't waiting for someone?”

“No, I was just passing to greet a friend that works here and stumbled upon you.” He says. “I wouldn't want you to feel out of place seeing your boss ditched you mid-dinner.”

“Can't exactly disagree with that.” Kageyama shrugs, deciding to let it slip for now. “If you don't have other plans.”

“Nothing of the sort.”

“What's this favour you mentioned earlier toda-yesterday?”

“Been to Amsterdam recently?”

“No.”

“Would you like to?”

“Depends.”

_Clever boy._

“There's a restoration project planned – big scale – and the Rijksmuseum is a bit under-staffed. It will be for a good while and the project can't be any more delayed. So my boss asked me if I knew someone who had time and the will to spend a few weeks in the Netherlands.”

“When is that?”

“It should start in the second half of January.”

“I'd have to check my schedule.” Kageyama says, trying to recall if he had anything marked down early in the next year. “Not sure, but I think I have room for manoeuvrer until April or so.”

“Interested?”

“Very.”

“Excellent.” Sakusa pulls out his business card. “Here's my number and mail. If you can notify me until the 12th of January, that'd be ideal.”

“I don't think I'll take that long.” Kageyama says as he takes it, fetching his own from his wallet. He's impressed with himself with actually having a few with him. He should definitely get some more. “Just to check with Oikawa-san and Makki-san for the schedule.”

“Thank you, you'd be a great help.”

 

“ _So what have you been up to?” Kageyama asks as the waiter arrives._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my, look at Kags' being easily distracted... Well played, Sakusa, well played.


	17. Planning is the key

“He's _so_ not accepting him, is he?” Hanamaki asks out loud day one after his boss's and his beloved co-worker's departure. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa are in the same room, enjoying the peace and quiet.

_Hook._

“No.” Matsukawa says right before he takes a sip of his coffee.

_Line._

“What are you on about?” Iwaizumi lifts his gaze from the paper.

_And sink._

 

“I'm talking about the newest romance between our Kageyama and that photographer of his.” Hanamaki offers, oh so generously.

Both Hanamaki and Matsukawa let it sink in; let him think about it for a bit and come to the exact same conclusion as they did.

Oikawa might be all smiles and flowers popping out his head, but he's far from accepting anyone dating his precious kouhai. Not that it concerns any one of them who the kid sees, but since they're all a big happy family, it kinda does. And it's their precious Kageyama.

Still, it pisses Hanamaki off. If there's anyone whose instincts they should follow regarding Kageyama, it's Hanamaki's. Not Oikawa's. In his humble opinion. Out of all of them, he knows him best. Sugawara and Matsukawa follow in close.

And if anyone here knew to what lengths Oikawa is prepared to go, it's Iwaizumi. Who's about to give up.

 

“ _Can't say you're wrong._ ” He says, scrunching his brows, no doubt going through a list of bullshit that Oikawa is more than ready to pull.

_Oh, this is too easy._

“ _Say, Iwaizumi_ ”, Hanamaki begins, smiling oh so sweetly and Matsukawa has to tighten his grip on his cup so not to laugh, “ _what do you think of a little game?_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

Day two brought an uneasy feeling. Which Iwaizumi knew all too well. It had everything to do with Oikawa.

“ _I sense bullshit._ ” Hanamaki states the moment he steps through the door of Iwaizumi's office, not even batting an eyelid.

“ _So do I._ ” Iwaizumi mutters, massaging his temples.

“Say, what do you think of a nice little trip to Sweden?”

“This time of the year?”

“What's better than below zero temperatures and high chances of heavy snow-in?”

“I'm in.”

“Let's go.”

 

Matsukawa was already waiting by the doors and look at that is that Sugawara sitting in that taxi well Hanamaki will be damned, what a coincidence.

“Where to?” Sugawara asks as they all squeeze in.

“Sweden.”

“I hear it's lovely this time of the year.”

“I hear so, too.”

 

* * *

 

Everything fell into place like magic. Had he the chance to script it, he wouldn't have done better than what transpired when they arrived. A phone call from Iwaizumi got them Oikawa's and Kageyama's location. Upon stepping foot into the restaurant, they are greeted by a curious Oikawa, leaning to see with whom the kid was sitting with. Matsukawa and Sugawara, bless their existence, recognised the one sitting with him.

“ _Having fun?_ ” Sugawara nearly sings out the way only he could do and Hanamaki almost pees himself at the face Oikawa ends up making.

The Universe _loves_ him.

Then there's the little scene they play out perfectly, because Hanamaki, Sugawara and Matsukawa actually mean what they say and it catches Iwaizumi a bit unprepared and the whole thing looks even more realistic.

“ _He so texted Tsukishima._ ” Sugawara mutters to Matsukawa as Hanamaki and Iwaizumi have their little battle of wits.

Matsukawa hums in amused agreement, slapping a low five, undetected, against Sugawara's palm. They mission was complete.

Though, both have to admit, they didn't really think Hanamaki would go that far. Not that they wouldn't, but still. Matsukawa will have to keep an eye on him.

_He tends to get overly enthusiastic._

_Not that Hanamaki would give two shits about._

_Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi were more gullible than warmed up Play-Doh._

_And he loved messing with them to boot._


	18. Resolving matters

He fell asleep amongst countless pictures and a few photo-albums. The short buzz of his phone rattling heavily against the wooden surface of his table snapped him awake. He reaches for it half blind, neck painfully stiff from the awkward position he fell actually passed out in as he rubs his tired stinging eyes, trying to blink the haze out, squinting at the bright light of the screen.

It's some unintelligible gibberish from an unknown number.

Must be a drunk text.

It certainly fits the time frame.

And the drunk text grammar.

Though someone's in trouble, he concludes after focusing on the broken up words.

 

_From: Unknown_

_Com asv ur bf queek_

 

If his intuition is right, it should be _come save your boyfriend, quick_.

 _Well that sucks_ , he thinks, rubbing at his neck. Hopefully it's one of those humorous situations where no one actually got in trouble. Then again, he couldn't care much about it. In his experience, really hostile situations tended to sober up people enough to _call_ for others rather than _text_. So it must be a big joke.

Though, the message did save something – namely, _his neck_.

He exhaled, deeply, looking around him.

He spent a few days and night trying to sort out what he could send to the various magazines he worked with. Somehow, very few photographs were deemed good enough.

Then again, it just might be that his standards and focus raised again. He felt like he woke up from a daydream, seeing things clearly for the first time since way too long.

He sorted out enough materials to cover the magazines for at least two to three issues, but it felt – off. Not that the pictures he chose were below his usual standards, no, it was him. These pictures were everything between a year and a few months old.

And the itching he felt back in Italy, on that rooftop, only seemed to increase the more he thought about it.

He needed to get out of this apartment and start shooting again.

The moment he thought of that, he rose from his seat, knocking a few things on his way and reached for his sorely neglected camera, sitting patiently on the top of a shelf. The relief and calm that washes over him the moment his fingers grip at the device almost knocked him out.

He was out the door in no time.

Fuck the fact that it was half three in the morning and so cold outside, the air bit his skin where it was bare as he stood on the balcony, breathing at the crisp air, feeling his head clear.

Free from all thoughts.

Save one.

 

_Blue eyes constantly changing shades with his mood and light._

 

* * *

 

The magnificent sunset, along with some excellent motion scenes were the last things he took with his camera before it warned him he had no more space on the SD card.

It mattered not. The itching in his fingers had subsided to a pleasant tingling. He was calmer than he could recall ever being in his life.

_It's so strange._

How a few encounters and one fiasco could lead him to this sense of calmness. Lead him to the most wonderful few months he's experienced so far. Leave him feeling so liberated from his own mind.

His eyes wander to the box he oh so creatively labelled _water surfaces_. Not his most creative idea, but what the heck. He's a photographer, not a creative writer.

Thankfully, Akiteru had enough sense not to ask him about it, although he didn't miss the inquiring look flashing in his brother's eyes.

Just looking at the stupid title brought him back to Italy, to the quiet house near the shore, not so far from Rome. To the weekend he managed to get rid of everyone, save _him_.

 

_The time they spent alone._

 

 _(He should_ really _remove those films from there.)_

_(They were not safe on the self where anyone could just reach for them.)_

_(Really, it's too reckless of him.)_

 

Forget the mess on his table and half the living room he managed to create, _again_.

_That ridiculously labelled box had to go._

 

* * *

 

 

“Dear me, Mr Tsukishima...” The editor of the magazine in Amsterdam nearly whistled at the newest shots he made not three hours ago.

“These are amazing.” He stated, eyes wide.

It weren't _just_ the photos, Tsukishima knew as they engaged into some casual small talk, that had the editor blink in surprise and confusion. It was him. He didn't feel dead inside any more.

_It showed._

_The sunrise printed on that paper was a perfect example of it._

“I must admit”, the man says as he carefully moved the photos aside, “when you suddenly vanished, I didn't think you'd come back.” He's seen that happen before.

“Neither did I.” Tsukishima says, lightly.

“Well, whatever happened, it did you good, if you don't mind me being so open.”

_No, not at all._

“I can now see that we can expect great things from you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The man smiled.

“These should be enough to cover us for a while. Feel free to send in some more whenever you feel like it.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and”, he ads, just before Tsukishima is out the door, “I really liked that Taj Mahal issue.”

Tsukishima merely offered a smile.

 

Yes, that was... _acceptable_...but not adequate. Not any more at least.

 

He's standing on the street, not having one thought stuck in his head as his phone comes to life. He's pleasantly surprised to see the caller ID if not slightly puzzled. It should be really night in Japan right now.

 

* * *

 

“ _Hello?_ ” He hears the sound of his voice and all of a sudden he doesn't know what to say.

Which is ridiculous, considering he was the one to call.

“ _Did you fall asleep?_ ” He hears Tsukishima ask, incredulous, and can't help but laugh.

“No, I didn't.” He speaks, finally, amusement clear in his voice. Though it wouldn't be the first time he did. Long distance and almost 12 hours of time difference tended to do that.

“ _Can't sleep then?_ ” He asks next and Kageyama can't help but bite his lower lip to contain the wide smile threatening to spread wide.

“I see no reason to be asleep at nine in the morning on a work day.”

There's a silence over the phone and Kageyama can see his slight confusion as he processes the words.

“ _What?_ ”

_How the fuck is it nine in the morning all the way back in-_

“I'm in Stockholm.” He informs him, letting that smile spread.

“ _You're where?_ ” The confusion is loud and clear in his voice and this time, he can't help but laugh.

Out loud.

 

“ _Have time to talk for a bit?”_

 

“ _Yeah”, Tsukishima says, also feeling his lips stretch into a smile, “I have time.”_

 


	19. His muse

“It should suffice.” The man behind the large late 18th century desk says over the phone, taking notes here and there, making a face here and there because the guy on the other side of the line was taking his sweet time checking things.

Sakusa is in no rush that morning.

He patiently sits in the chair that compliments the woodwork of the desk nicely, eyes fixed on his phone rather than the man in front of him, whose now ready to leave a permanent copy of his facial structures in the fine dark lacquer of the desk.

“Yes. That's that. Thank you.”

Sakusa looks up at the sound of the phone being hanged.

“ _Finally._ ” He huffs. Then he turns his attention to Sakusa.

“I don't know _how_ you do it.” He begins, pointing a finger in at him with a wide grin on his face. “But you do it and I have never been more grateful to have someone to call my employee.”

Sakusa doesn't even blink.

“If there's anything you need, you know my number.”

“I don't think I'll need your number.” Sakusa says as his eyes are back on the screen of his phone before he gets up, ready to leave. “You have the list of things that I want and I'll be taking the next week off.”

“Certainly. Have a pleasant day.” His boss waves at his retreating back, getting a hold of the phone once more.

“Yes, connect me with the office on the twelfth floor.”

 

The door closes shut.

 

Sakusa is on his way down the stairs, taking his suit jacket off and loosens his tie as he makes a corner on the floor below and enters the studio. The familiar scent of paint and various alcohols greet him, and his shoulders relax. He's one of those people that have no qualms with hospitals and the scent of it. The numerous bacteria, however, are a different matter but that's not relevant right now. He puts a pair of white latex gloves on and presses a button on the wall nearest to the door, the mechanism lifting the curtains to let the winter light stream in.

Time to get to work.

There are several letters and documents lying on the illuminated surfaces, all ready to be examined and either authenticated or not. The letters are no problem – one had merely to determine the date of the ink and paper. Private correspondence rarely stuck with one writing style.

He dates two letter to be from 1968 and the most fragile looking one of the three to be from 1758, give or take five years. The writing style indicates that the letters is on the younger side of the time line, but statistics always leaves room for error.

The documents are said to be from the late 1600's and are to be as closely dated as possible.

Sakusa arches a brow at the papers.

_If that's 1600's then I'm Madonna the pop-star_ , he thinks as he pulls an illuminated magnifying glass over the first document. The stamp seems to be legitimate, but he'll wait for the results of the ink contents test. Being as sure as one can be is in his job description, after all. The paper, he deems, is not paper but parchment and that of top quality. The chemistry lab results indicate that the documents were somewhere where smoke had reached them. And not just any smoke. Someone tried to burn them over a fire made with damp logs. The real issue he has is the writing style of it.

It doesn't match any of the one's he's seen so far.

He scowls lightly at the thing.

Determining the exact age of documents based solely the way someone wrote an a, c, d or e, in cursive or not, neat or messy, large or small, wide or narrow, told him more about the person and their state of mind at the time they wrote it. But if he had to, he'd say the style and grammar and word order fit the time frame of the 1670's.

_He really needed that ink test._

He glances at the clock hanging from the fall on his right.

He had three more hours to kill.

Excellent.

 

_On with the real work then._

 

His real work being  _The Love letter_ by Johannes Vermeer. Here he has to laugh. Today seemed to be all about some letter or the other. Oil on canvas, 44cm x 38.5 cm. On display in Eregalerij.

“ _Vermeer chose an unusual vantage point for this painting_ ”, he beings reciting the description text from the museum's official website, adding a bit of an accent and dynamics to his voice as he dips the pointy tip of his thinnest brush into a beige brown, “ _from a dim space in the foreground, a glimpse is afforded of another room with a domestic scene. An elegantly dressed woman looks up expectantly at a maidservant, who has just handed her a letter. The seascape on the wall behind them may well allude to the epistle’s subject: during the 17th century, the sea was often compared to love, and the lover to a ship._ ”

And then someone puts a tag named  _immoral women_ .

The look on one of the maidens on the painting certainly doesn't indicate it. Her expression clearly states  _seriously? Another one?_ , in modern terms, of course, while her maidservant just responds with a simple  _mhm_ , also his free interpretation of her classic display of a  _mhm_ face one can find used even by more modern humans.

If he had to take a wild guess, he'd say someone was pestering her and her maidservant was also in awe as to why they were still insistent instead of being a  _polite little piece of shit_ back in the 17 th century and  _backed the hell off_ .

People should pay more attention to paintings, is all he says.

_Sakusa also suspects Vermeer may or may not have had a thing for pearl earrings and the way they shone under light._

 

“ _You sure are in a good mood today._ ” Akaashi muses from the door, leaned against it with a yellow envelope under his arm.

Sakusa doesn't lift his head up from the earring but merely hums in response.

“He's coming over. January. The grand clean up project. And Kageyama's gonna lend a hand.”

“Sorry, did you say Kageyama?” Akaashi arches a brow, moving closer to the table he worked on. “As in Kageyama _Tobio?_ ”

“Yes, I did.”

“ _Oh, my..._ ”

The implicating tone of that makes Sakusa remove the brush from the painting to look at him, impassively.

“Don't _even start_.”

“I didn't.” Akaashi raises his hands in defence, but Sakusa knows that look.

“You did.”

“All I'm saying he's with someone.”

Sakusa merely shrugged.

“Don't care if he has a girlfriend, two boyfriends and a pet.”

“Wow. Wait.” Akaashi says, mind racing. “You're infatuated with a kid that waltzed in and called you average- _He's_ that kid?”

“Yes and you can't take him away from me.”

“Fascinating.”

“Also, you can't judge me, you Italian noodle. I haven't seen him in”, he pauses, mulling over for two seconds, “way too long.”

Akaashi wasn't even remotely Italian, but it's Sakusa and his reasoning.

Come to think of it, he can kinda see how he and Kageyama could work.

“Seeing you know him, I'd say he's been to Italy. Rome. Vatican. _Pietá_.”

“You're starting to creep me out.”

“He mentioned it back in college.”

“What else is there?”

“Not telling.”

“Fair enough. But I'm curious. How'd you get him to agree?”

“I know of his two biggest weaknesses.” Is all he says before concentrating back down on the canvas.

Of which Akaashi knows one.

“What time is it?” Sakusa asks, carefully outlining the fabric of madame's fur.

“Adventure time.” Akaashi states.

“With Finn and Jake.”

“Yes.”

“You'll have your documents as soon as the ink test shows up.”

“Much obliged.”

“Mhm.”

 

And while he waits, Akaashi is sure to think about things. Things being the present Sakusa Kiyoomi.

He wasn't a player in the most commonly accepted view, but there was no other term that could fit better to describe him. There were rumours he only had eyes for one person, but Akaashi would never have thought for a second in the back of his mind that the person he had eyes for was Kageyama. Impressive, to say the least.

Anyhow, he will _not_ be the one to break _this_ news to Tsukishima.

_He's already on his list._

_Better not make it worse._

 

_Sakusa arches a brow at him as he all but breaks into amused giggles but he waves it off._

 

_Oh, yes, things just might get interesting again._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A plot twist? My, my....


	20. Deja-vu

“Who or what the heck is a Sakusa Kiyoomi?” Hanamaki asks as he skims over a _stolen-uh-borrowed for an unspecified time frame_ guest list and table arrangements for the upcoming dinner party they all arrived in Stockholm for.

“Who?” Sugawara asks as he peeks out the bathroom, tying his tie.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“I know that one.” Matsukawa says as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get it to obey him without the comb. “He's one of Kageyama's colleagues from college.”

“What? Why was I not informed about this?” Hanamaki all but whines.

“I have no idea.” Matsukawa shrugs and decides to use the comb. There's really no helping it.

“Hold on. Let me.” Hanamaki so graciously offers, ignoring the list for a bit as he ruffles Matsukawa's hair. “There. Perfect.”

“Thank you.”

“Guys, quit messing around, what time is it?” Sugawara asks, emerging from the bathroom, suit, tie and fancy shoes, also battling his damp hair.

“Relax. We got plenty of time.” Hanamaki smiles, dressed and ready to go since that morning.

“I can't believe you got ready this morning.” Sugawara says as he takes the comb from Matsukawa. “What's up with that?”

“Always be prepared, I say.”

“So how did you get that list, any way?” Matsukawa asks as he sits on the armrest of the chair.

“Let me keep _some_ of my secrets.” Hanamaki offers him a wide smile.

“Okay. Why are you asking about Kageyama's college colleagues?”

“Because”, he drawls out the syllable a bit, before grabbing the paper again, “at this table are we with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Here, a little down the banquet hall, in perfect view, might I ad, is Kageyama with Akaashi-san, Tsukishima-kun and that Sakusa fellow.”

 

“ _Meaning_ , Kageyama's got another admirer.” He grins even wider, giddy as a little kid on Christmas morning at the candy store.

 

“ _Makki._ ” Matsukawa blinks.

Even Sugawara ceases his attempts to do something with his hair.

“Yes, Makki, not everyone is after Kageyama. Chill.”

“Yes, they are.”

Sugawara sighs and gets back to the mirror.

“ _Makki._ ” Matsukawa begins but can't help but crack a smile at his high spirits and sheer enthusiasm. “I know you're excited, but please refrain from endangering Kageyama's _existing_ relationships with your fanboying.”

“I shall try.”

“Thank you.”

 

Meanwhile, at the door, ready to pick them up are one really exasperated Iwaizumi and a mildly concerned Oikawa.

 

“ _Please don't try to hook them all up._ ” Oikawa almost begs.

“ _Else I'm going to ship your ass right back home._ ” Iwaizumi warns curtly.

“ _I'd like to see you try._ ”

 

On another floor of the hotel is the aforementioned Kageyama, also getting ready, blissfully unaware of the commotion two door up and one floor down. He's not sure whether to stick with his dark blue or dark gray suit.

He can practically hear Hanamaki rooting for the one that highlights his eyes.

“You should definitely go with the dark blue one.” Iwaizumi steps into the room after a knock. He walks over to the bed, picking the suit in question and placing it in front of the younger man in front of the mirror. “Fits the occasion better. I'd suggest you remove your hair from your eyes as well.”

“Thanks.” He says as he hangs the suit on the door. “Where's Oikawa-san?”

“Dealing with the unholy trio.”

“That's harsh.” He smiles.  


“He's their boss. Let him learn to handle his employees.” Iwaizumi shrugs.  


“You _do_ realise the _unholy trio_ is going to end up convincing him about whatever they had planned to convince him about?”

Iwaizumi sighs.

“I know.” But then he smiles and winks at him. “Maybe that's the plan.”

“Don't rush, you've got time.” Iwaizumi says as he turns to the door. “See you downstairs. I'm driving tonight.”

“Right. See you later.”

Hanamaki's not ten feet from the room as Iwaizumi exits.

“ _So he's going with the dark blue one?_ ” He bats his eyelashes at him as they walk down the hallway to the elevator.

“ _Shut up._ ”

 

They arrive at the newest pride of the Swedish art world and it really is a sight to behold. It even has a slide on the side. Part of the permanent display and functioning as a quick exit as well. What more could one want?

“It's huge.” Is what Hanamaki says first as they get out of the car.

“It's amazing.” Matsukawa gazes at the building in awe.

“It truly is.” Oikawa has to agree, taking in all the details and colour scheme. A mix of the modern and the traditional, with all the best from both. Ideas flood his head – hopefully some stay with him by the end of the evening.

“I suggest we go inside.” Iwaizumi says five minutes later, tip of his nose already red from the cold.

“I'm right behind you.” Sugawara agrees, tips of his ears going numb from the wind that picked up.

 

“ _Ugh, where's the toilet?_ ” Hanamaki asks the moment he steps inside and a nice gust of warm air washes over them. He hated when that happened. Matsukawa merely rolled his eyes with a smirk.

“Down the hall, first door left.” He points out the sign.

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably pee yourself.”

“True.”

And with that he's gone, leaving the rest of them to deal with the staff coming from the next room to tend to their coats and to direct them to the meeting place. They're fifteen minutes early and the place is already bustling with people.

Critics, officials, some familiar face, some less familiar people, restaurateurs, managers, a few celebrities, photographers, news agents, a few officials associated with the Swedish royal family...

They all have less than a minute to asses the situation before a voice calls out to Oikawa.

“Well if it isn't Oikawa Tooru. Glad you could make it.” One of the three people behind the new gallery project approaches them. “Let me show you around.”

And with that Oikawa and Iwaizumi are on one side, exchanging pleasantries with a few other people.

“They sure move in fast.” Matsukawa mutters to Sugawara as they take a drink from the table in one of the corners.

“Of course they do.” The other smiles pleasantly at him and a few people who greet them from afar. “I wouldn't be surprised if we get a few job offers tonight.”

Matsukawa silently agrees as he takes a sip of his chilled champagne.

“Whoa, talk about an event.” Hanamaki says as he joins them with a drink of his own in his hands. “Holy-is that Ushijima over there?”

Matsukawa and Sugawara merely lean a bit. True to his words, it is.

“I can't wait to see Oikawa's face.” Hanamaki says.

“You might want to find him, then, he's been abducted by art politics along with Iwaizumi.” Sugawara says, not opposed to the idea of being near when they cross paths.

“I'm right on it. Point out the way.”

“Speaking of finding people...” Matsukawa turns around, frowning slight, “has anyone seen Kageyama?”

Two pairs of eyes grow wide at the question.

 

_Shit._

They also turn around in hopes to spot him, but no such luck. There are too many people bustling around, admiring this or that or just grouping around to chat, gossip and spite.

 

_How the heck did they manage to lose him already?_

 


	21. In all fairness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two dorks in love and their potential rivals in the same room. You know, having a laugh. No biggie.

Kageyama gets ready, walks down the hallway, enters and exits the elevator and drives with everyone to the gallery.

They exit, admire the architecture in the freezing cold for five minutes and enter the said building.

 

_The moment he steps through the doors, there's a hand grabbing him and pulling to the side._

 

He meets Akaashi's green eyes, shining with amusement as he hold a finger to his lips.

“Good evening, Akaashi-san.” Kageyama greets him wit a slight smile as the man motions for him to take off the coat he's wearing. Akaashi takes the coat and hands it over to one of the staff members who takes it and disappears with it.

“Evening, Kageyama-kun.” The man greets back.

“I was hoping I could get a chance to steal you away from your entourage”, he begins, earning an amused grin from Kageyama as they enter the meeting room from the side, “for old times sake.”

“You certainly managed it.”

“I only hope they won't be too alarmed?”

“I don't think so. Oikawa-san will probably be talked up the moment he steps into the crowd.”

“Excellent. I hear you and I have a common acquaintance, so I thought why not skip the bothersome introductions and re-introductions?” _Maybe even two, if he's to be technical about it._

“I really have nothing against that thought.” Kageyama says as they walk through the entrance gallery and go straight to the next one, a little less full of chatting people. Kageyama still sends a message from his phone, just in case. He'd really like to avoid a panicked Hanamaki amongst all else.

“How are you these days?” He asks as they walk slower once they enter the pleasantly lit room featuring modern art.

“Fine, just a bit busy these days. The _Borghese_ is really in need of a nice polish.”

“I know what you mean. We had a lot to cover over September and October. Sugawara-san was busy with another gallery.”

“Just the two of you, then?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, you poor sweet thing.” Akaashi teases.

Kageyama snorts lightly.

“As if.”

“I don't think I've met so many people who are that dedicated to their work. Then again, that number just might be higher than I thought.” Akaashi muses.

“What do you mean?”

 

“ _Oh, he probably means me and my obsessions._ ” An amused voice joins in, grin widening as the newcomer watches Kageyama turn around, confusion evident on his face.

“Sakusa-senpai?” He blinks, looking between Akaashi and him, a slight smile playing on his lips. “You two know each other?”

“One could put it that way.” Sakusa says.

“Don't bother being so cryptic.” Akaashi states dryly, taking a sip of the cognac he picked up from a table on his way to the modern art display room.

“Oh?” Sakusa arches a brow at him. “What gives? He in on it, too?”

Akaashi offers a sincere smile.

 

“ _One could put it that way._ ”

 

“I was picked up with a miniature this summer.” Kageyama states flat.

 

Sakusa blinks.

 

 _Then,_ it clicks.

 

“You're kidding me.” He says, looking at Kageyama who shakes his head, eyes closed.

“He's kidding, right?” He then turns to Akaashi, who also shakes his head.

“Wh-” And now he can't contain the amused laugh. It dies down after a minute or two.

“Well then, an introduction is in order.” He says, reaching out a hand to Kageyama. “Name's Sakusa Kiyoomi. The legal part of that business.”

Akaashi rolls his eyes, oh so dramatic, as Kageyama plays along and shakes his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, I'm Kageyama Tobio.”

“ _The pleasure is all mine_ ”, he states, stealing a quick kiss on the back of Kageyama's hand with a wink with Akaashi almost dropping his glass at the sight.

 

_Damn, he moves fast. He did not see that coming._

 

Although, he _probably should have_ , at the very least, anticipated it.

 

“ _Nice to see a gentleman this day and age._ ” Tsukishima's voice reaches his ears.

_Oh what impeccable timing._

The three of them turn as sure as Akaashi is enjoying this situation to boot as well as it's about -12 degrees outside, Tsukishima is behind them, with an amused smirk on his lips and an arched brow at the situation.

Akaashi, barely containing himself, oh so casually drags Sakusa away, tilting his head as he speaks.

“Guess what else they have here?”

“Do enlighten me.”

“Your favourite.”

“ _I imagine they do._ ” Sakusa mimics the tilt as he plays along and quietly follows Akaashi to further down the back. Akaashi doesn't miss the implication of his words, glancing briefly at Kageyama.

 _Oh, yes, he thinks_ , amusement settling deep into his bones, _this is going to be good._

 

“So I'm fashionably late”, he begins as he walks the few steps separating him from Kageyama and there's already a smile on those lips,

“ _without even a Starbucks_ ”, Kageyama oh so lightly comments, deep blue eyes not once looking away from him,

“ _what a terrible mistake on my part_ ”, he says, amused, as he reaches out to wrap his arms around his waist, leaning his forehead “and there are people already trying to steal you away with gentlemanly behaviour.”

“ _You like those kinds of things?_ ” He asks lightly, memorising the sweet little smile and faint dusting of cheeks.

“ _Maybe I do._ ”

“ _Maybe?_ ”

“ _Maybe._ ”

“ _Oh, I think you do._ ” He smiles as the light dust of pink turns a shade deeper.

He can see Kageyama's shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Why are we discussing that right now?”

“ _You are rather popular with certain people, believe it or not. I'll have to be careful so they don't steal you away._ ” He whispers.

Kageyama moves a bit, reaching his ear.

 

“ _You mean like Kuroo-san and Bokuto-san did?_ ”

 

Now Tsukishima can't help but laugh out loud.

 

Meanwhile, behind a _very thin_ wall, between two pieces of colourful metal ornaments, Sakusa and Akaashi are _really trying not to outright holler_.

 

So that's one for Akaashi, one for Sakusa, two for Tsukishima and the rest for Kageyama. (Kuroo and Bokuto get half points.)

This just might prove an interesting game.

And the night hasn't even begun.

 

“ _By the way”, Sakusa asks, voice low, “did you see the seating arrangements?”_

 

_A very interesting game, indeed.  
_

 


	22. Interlude

“Is it me or does this look more like a wedding reception?” Hanamaki mutters as they sit down.

“It looks like a wedding reception.” Oikawa confirms with a slight frown. “There's going to be a _lot_ of speeches.”

“Well”, Hanamaki smiles, “thankfully there's enough alcohol.”

“Since when are you the drinking type?” Matsukawa asks him, amused.

“Honey, if this evening goes as remotely as I imagine it will, I'll need alcohol to make me sleepy so I don't implode.”

“Will you cut it out? It's as if Kageyama can't have people just to talk to, everyone is out to get him, jeez.” Iwaizumi mutters, head on the top of his palm, already scoffing.

“Mark my words, it's gonna be good.” The pink haired man makes himself comfortable – the only thing missing is popcorn and 3D glasses.

“Why don't you have a glass and go to sleep?” Iwaizumi asks with a sneer.

“Iwaizumi, you sound more like Oikawa than Oikawa.” Sugawara states, politely.

“I do not.”

“Yes, Iwa-chan, you do.”

“Quiet.”

“...rude.”

“I mean”, Iwaizumi begins, turning to Hanamaki, “what is the deal with that?”

“What? Can't a guy have some fun?” Hanamaki winks at him. “Relax, Iwaizumi, I'm spouting bullshit as I ever do, though if _he_ decided to go along with my bullshit, I'd be happy to help. And so would you. Don't even try to deny it.” He grins widely.

“And _no,_ I'm not about to hook him up. Unless he asks. Then I will. You get the gist. But stop kidding yourself, you're just as mushy on the inside as I'm dying over here and you have to admit, it's so satisfying seeing him surrounded by people other than us that he can actually communicate with instead of following you two around like a baby duckling. Tell me one thing, when did you ever see him like that when you took him all around the globe during his college days? Name _one_ situation.”

And that's when both Iwaizumi and Oikawa look down in shame. They really have been dragging him all over the place that is the planet Earth but not one did they see him socialise. Truthfully, they thought it was just that he wasn't all that-

“ _He's a kid of two diplomats, stop making excuses._ ” Hanamaki stops the train of thoughts right there. “I could bet Issei's wonderful ass that it was you two keeping him away from _potential danger_ and didn't give him time to breathe.”

_Bingo._

“It's not like we-” _Okay, so they did, but,_ “-I...”

_Shit._

“Oikawa, we were so focused on teaching him stuff we forgot to let him breathe.” Iwaizumi turns to him, low-key panic creeping up his spine.

Oikawa is about to stab himself with a fork. He's done to him exactly the same thing his own parents did and he loathed it for years to come.

But.

There _is_ a _distinct_ difference.

Hanamaki wasn't wrong, but he wasn't all that right either.

“I admit we may have been...” _what's the word,_ “...inconsiderate, but you're forgetting one thing. He wasn't so open until just recently, Makki. You and I both pestered him into things, but this”, he points out to Kageyama talking to Sakusa, he supposes, he knows the rest personally, “this is new.”

“And, yes, he's a son of two diplomats, but do you really think it's _talking_ they teach those kids?” he looks at him questionably, but not to dismiss his opinion.

There's a small comfortable silence and Hanamaki has no issue whatsoever with accepting their opinions on the matter.

“We understand what you're saying.” Sugawara suddenly speaks up, having listened to that conversation. “But you weren't there with us. In the studio.”

“He spent the first six months in his own corner”, Matsukawa continues, voice low, “doing whatever was needed and asked of him. He was so quiet at times, I honestly forgot he was there. Then this idiot waltzed in,” he glances at a very proud of himself Hanamaki, “and, as you so put it Oikawa, pestered him into stuff. As far as I'm concerned, that was a great move at the time. Yes, I agree, being a diplomat's kid is more about keeping your mouth shut, but he's been doing that for a good deal of his life.”

“You weren't wrong to keep him in the safe bubble.” Hanamaki leans back into his seat. “But he's not a diplomat in training, he's a restaurateur and one damn clever kid. He's been taught to keep to himself and trying to fit in on your own after years of that is not easy.”

A particular high school incident pops into his mind, but he dismisses it quickly.

“He's had it tough on his own and lending a hand is okay, but now, as you have also noticed, he's ready to try things on his own. It's just that the both of you went from seeing him like that to seeing him like this and think we're pushing him. No, we're not, it's just that we have a wee bit more faith in him and his decisions. You still see him as the awkward kid who keeps to himself and of course you're worried.”

There's another silence as everyone sinks into their own thoughts.

They're all right. Oikawa himself was over the roof when he asked him to accompany him here.

“Guess we need to stop safe bubbling him.” He glances at Iwaizumi with a small smile.

“Right.”

“That's a nice way of putting it.” Sugawara says, smiling.

“Why thank you.”

 

“So, Hanamaki”, Iwaizumi begins, much less distressed now that they finally got that out of their system, earning the surprised glances of everyone save Hanamaki, “ _that's an awful lot of people around him_ ”, all _three_ of them, “what's _your_ safe plan in case things go to shit?”

“Glad that you ask.” He chirps merrily, clapping his hands together. “Do we still have access to that basement?”

“We do.”

“Excellent. I have a draft of some 56 methods.”

Iwaizumi nods his head, impressed.

“I see you're _well_ prepared.”

“I always am.”

“Ad my 104 to that.”

“Why, Iwaizumi-san.” Hanamaki bats his eyelashes at him. “I am so proud of you. You have to teach me some.”

“ _You are not going to torture people._ ” Oikawa near screeches.

“Says the guy who'd send me out to get them.” Iwaizumi states.

“...”

There's a clink of glasses in Iwaizumi's and Hanamaki's hands.

Sugawara and Matsukawa wonder if the bleach and cleaners still have a valid expiration date.

Oikawa is not sure whether to be terrified or proud that they are all so well prepared.

 

_Oh, well._

 

They better treat his dear Tobio-chan right.

 

_Or else._

 


	23. Technicalities

“That's some entourage over there.” Sakusa says, glancing at the table where Kageyama was currently at.  


“You don't know the half of it.” Akaashi agrees.

“You talking from experience?”

“Sort of. Though, _we_ weren't the ones who had to deal with them.”

“You were lucky then.” Sakusa concludes, leaning back into his chair, making himself comfortable, waiting for Kageyama to return.

“Yes” Akaashi remembers the distinct fear in Kuroo and Bokuto and that was just _Kageyama_ , “that we were.”

“Though I would like to see him kick some ass.” Akaashi says.

“Would you now?” Sakusa laughs. “I see his charm has gotten through to you, too.”

“It's hard not to notice.”

“Is that friend of yours aware of your opinions?”

“He might be.”

“My, Akaashi”, he shakes his head in mock disappointment, “and _you_ call _me_ troublesome.”

“I'm not the one who moved in like you did.”

“It's all mere courtesy.”

“I wonder.”

“Well it's not that he has a ring on that finger of his.”

“Sakusa. Really.”

“What?”

 

“Aren't you two confident.” Tsukishima chimes, sitting on the seat between Akaashi and where Kageyama is, with Sakusa next to Kageyama on his right.

“I don't talk behind people's backs.” Sakusa states.

“So I've noticed.”

“You're not all too shaken up by this yourself.” Akaashi says, amused.

“Maybe because I'm the one he calls his boyfriend.” Tsukishima replies, all sweet. Akaashi actually sours a bit at that and Sakusa almost gets red wine all over himself.

“Nice confidence. I like that.” He says with a wide smile.

“Speaking of which”, Tsukishima turns to him, “how worried should I be?”

“About Kageyama or myself?”

“Oh, he could decide to walk off with Akaashi over here and I'm okay with that as long as he's fine with it, but it's you I don't know.”

“You?” Akaashi gives him an incredulous look, not sure whether to laugh or what. “Tsukishima, you're about as possessive about him as Sakusa's obsessed.”

“Bold words for someone who went behind Bokuto's back to have Kageyama show him how a _impasto_ goes.” Tsukishima arches a brow at him and Sakusa can't miss the amusement in his eyes.

Sakusa turns his attention to Akaashi, in fake scandal.

“You _did_ _not_.” And he can barely keep his voice from turning into a laugh.

Akaashi ignores him as he puts a hand over his heart, oh so hurt.

“What have I done to offend you so?”

Now he goes ignored as Tsukishima turns his attention back to Sakusa.

“Well?”

“Oh, you're safe with me.” He waves it off. “And so is he.”

“Is he now?”

“Worry not. I'm not what you might think.”

“And what do I think?”

“Ever heard of the term being _ace_ outside of sports?”

It takes about a few seconds for the mild confusion to settle into calm understanding.

“So you're even worse then.”

Now Akaashi almost ruins his shirt with alcohol as it's Sakusa's turn to stare at him surprised.

“How exactly is that worse?” By all means, he's really curious. Not something he hears often. If ever.

“Means you look at him as a person.” Tsukishima gladly elaborates, suppressing a laugh, barely, at his own words. “You value the emotional aspect more, unless you're an arrow as well.”

Akaashi actually laughs out loud at the amazed expression on Sakusa's face.

“First of all, that's rude to everyone, ace or not.” He begins, cracking at the end of that particular statement because it's _fucking hilarious_. “Second, no, I'm not an arrow. Well observed. And third, yes, I do value the emotional aspect more, as you so finely put it. A word of advice, just as a precaution. Don't go telling people that stereotyped line else you might find yourself in trouble.”

“I don't usually care about that.” Tsukishima admits. “I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“What gave me away?”

“It's just the way you handle yourself around him. Unlike Akaashi over here, you're not undressing him with your eyes.”

“Am not.”

_They both give him a look._

“Only for aesthetic reasons.”

At that Sakusa nearly shivers.

“I hear you. I'd kill to have him pose for me.”

“I know.” Tsukishima says, earning himself two curios looks.

“You're his boyfriend.” Akaashi elaborates, not sure what the problem was.

“Exactly.” Tsukishima states. “Imagine how _that_ would sound like coming from _me_.”

 

“How would what sound?” Kageyama asks, curious and is surprised to see everyone jump. “I'm sorry?” He says as he glances at each one. “I didn't think I'd startle you.”

“Oh, it's nothing.” Sakusa is the first to collect himself. “We had an ongoing discussion.”

“Right. Discuss on then, I'll be right back. Just as I see what else they forgot to tell me.” Kageyama says as he walks over to the table where Oikawa and the rest of them sat.

“That”, Akaashi mutters as he waits for his heart rate to calm into the normal one, “was close.”

“Although, I sympathise with Tsukishima here.” Sakusa points out. “It could sound very wrong.”

“I don't see anything wrong with that.” Akaashi says with a light shrug of his shoulders. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

“Of course you don't.” He says. “You got two boyfriends.”

“What?”

“Seriously, what have I done to you?”

“Leave him out of this a bit and tell me that he means what I think it means.” Sakusa demands.

“It means exactly that.” Akaashi sighs, though he's glad. They can tell.

“Wow. So you finally got them to see the obvious. Kudos to you.” It's little to say that Sakusa is impressed.

“Was he in on that, too?” Tsukishima turns to Akaashi with a raised brow.

“Not per say. But let's face it, the rock of Gibraltar were aware of that one.”

“...no lie there.”

“But you know what I think?” Sakusa asks, as he's leaned on his chair with his look directed at the table behind them.

“What?” Both of them turn to face it with him.

“I think they're deliberately holding him there.” He states.

Akaashi and Tsukishima have to agree.

One speech was over, while they were busy discussing more important people (Kageyama) and the man was barely half an hour in his seat in total.

“Let me see what I can do.” Tsukishima says as he gets up.

 

“Akaashi, I _think_ those people might be onto us.”

“Oh, I know they are. If not everyone, then at least the one Kageyama calls Makki-san.”

“Really? He looks like he's enjoying this.”

“He broke a chair over someone's back.”

“So? Doesn't mean he can't be happy little sir quiet is surrounded by people.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Back in college, he had all sorts of rumours about him. Never paid much attention, to be honest. All I knew that he was quiet and punctual. And _constantly_ by his self.”

“How _did_ you two cross paths, any way?”

“Like I said. I'm sitting in front of a canvas and he waltzes in, I show him some stuff and he declares me average. Two hours later, I realised, it was a _compliment_. I was so ticked off by that.”

“Wow.”

“Two days later, I was ticked off by those stupid rumours because not one of them was right.”

“Rumours never are, Sakusa.”

“No, I mean, no one ever tried to talk to him. Like, _ever_. So I took him under my wing for the time he wasn't flying off somewhere with his soon to be boss.”

“He's exceptionally creative, I'll tell you that.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“So what's your story.”

“He and Bokuto shared kidnapping advice and boy he's full of them.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.”

 

They watch as Tsukishima engages into pleasantries with the big happy family.

 

“Just don't make this one of your mind games, Sakusa.” Akaashi mutters.

“Worried?”

“Yes. Knowing you, you won't leave it if you see a window of opportunity to act.”

“You know me well.”

“Then again”, he smiles devilishly, the one smile that makes Kuroo bleach and Bokuto ask him politely to not wreck people for his own amusement, “ _I like seeing him work hard for the ones he cares about._ ”

“Oh, you sneaky thing, you.”

“I can't help myself.”

 

_“You're awfully cute when you're evil.”_

_“I know.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worry not. They aren't done just yet.


	24. A little rivalry is okay

“So you have something against me butting in”, he summarises as Akaashi stirs the ice around the glass, bored out of his mind, half listening to another speech, “but not that much to move a finger and stop me if I do?”

“That's a very nice summary.” Akaashi praises, tooth rotting smile in place and Sakusa could swear there are tiny flowers blooming around his head.

Truly terrifying, that one is.

_Then again, it's not like Kageyama has a ring on his finger._

So why not? Why not test those waters and mess around with one's head a bit? It's been a while. And by the looks of it, he glances at the nearby table, the hesitation is painfully evident in him. _That_ simply won't do. Not when Kageyama gives him _that_ look.

“I _am_ surprised, Sakusa.” Akaashi's voice snaps him out of his calculations, claiming his attention. “I never thought you'd let someone else get to him first.”

“Really now?” Sakusa smirks, closing his eyes.

“Really.” Akaashi states dry. If he had to compare their relationship to something, Akaashi would say his relationship with Sakusa is something akin to his and Tsukishima's – in terms of Tsukishima outright sneering at him sometimes, comparing him with Disney villains, what a cutie, though Akaashi would never be so frank.

“I don't know what you're thinking or do I ever hope to figure those thoughts of yours out”,

“Oh, you”,

“but I am curious.” Akaashi ignores the commentary, eyes fixed on him.

“What troubles that busy mind of yours?” Sakusa plays along and Akaashi knows it.

“Well, obviously, you're not in love with him the classical way.”

“Obviously.”

“But there's something there I can't quite figure out.”

“My, what perception.”

“What is it?” He muses, studying him without a care in the world, as if he's forgotten where he is – _and when_.

“You'll have to be a little bit more specific than that, Akaashi-san.”

“ _What is it that makes you so loyal to him?_ ”

There's a brief tense pause where they merely observe each other. And the Sakusa offers a lazy smile.

 

“Oh, I'm not giving up _that answer_ just so.” He leans back, comfortably, winking at him – playful. Akaashi can't help but snort.

It's been a while, but he's done it. He finally found the right question. To the very thing he always wanted to know.

Truth is, he's heard of Kageyama Tobio even way before he saw him that day in the gallery, a few years prior. The story he told Tsukishima was a half truth. He's heard those rumours Sakusa mentioned and, as painful it is to admit it, he didn't bother with them.

An awkward kid at art school.

Hardly gossip material.

Too bad, though, now he knows. There is a slight sliver of envy of the relationship those two have, even if Sakusa's doing his best to keep it as vague as possible. It's as if he knows something that he wouldn't like Kageyama to know.

 _Then again_ , maybe he's thinking way into things.

 

“You're being unfair.” He says, retreating, for now.

“Am I?” Sakusa is having a ball this evening, that's for sure.

“You know you are.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Alright.” Akaashi sighs. “Keep your little secrets.”

“I will.”

 

Sakusa Kiyoomi, for all his aloof behaviour, is one tough nut to crack. As is Kageyama Tobio, but for an entirely different reason.

Not that Akaashi minds. Saves him the trouble of getting his entertainment elsewhere. Bokuto and Kuroo are handling things well on their own. They even managed to find some bits and pieces of this grand puzzle that has them all practically gathered here besides the opening of this marvellous place. Nothing concrete, but he'll take it.

He's still responsible for Kageyama's well-being after that little incident last summer. It would be rude if he didn't keep a look out.

“Worry not, Akaashi”, Sakusa chimes in with a knowing look and Akaashi always feels so exposed when he's in the same room, let alone the same table, “he's quite safe.”

“So I see.”

Just in time for an obligatory clap, Kageyama and Tsukishima return.

“I'm so sorry for neglecting you all.” The youngest of them says, slightly embarrassed, as he sits down on his poor, neglected seat.

“Sakusa-senpai”, he says and there's a flash of triumph in Sakusa's eyes and Akaashi is close to rolling his eyes, how juvenile, “I've confirmed it with Oikawa-san, I can be there as soon as January starts.”

Now this is interesting. Two pairs of eyes glance briefly at Tsukishima, who's busy ignoring them purposefully and quite successfully at that as he's _so_ invested in the third-fourth? Speech of the evening.

“Is that so?” Sakusa can't hide his surprise. He'd expected him to show up much later, knowing how Oikawa usually was with lending his hand-picked employees to other museums and galleries. He's not about to complain, though.

“I'm...glad to hear that.”

Which brings them to another thing.

 

“If that's so, I'll have to re-schedule then.” Tsukishima says, bored with the speech about fishing lines and pouches. Whatever that means, any way. He turns to Kageyama, reaching for the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

“Consider it an early birthday present?” He says, not exactly unsure, but it's enough for everyone to stare at him and the thing he's pulling out of the pocket.

Akaashi will be damned if that doesn't look like a key.

 _Oh, what do you know, it_ is _a key._

_How about that?_

“I..” and yes seeing _that adorable blush_ dusting Kageyama's cheeks was totally worth even his and Sakusa's slight shock, and he even coughs slight as he tries to contain the smile, why is that affecting them so much, good lord, “...what?”

Sakusa looks like he's about to start screaming. He probably is. Internally.

 

_There's a loud crash behind them, but no one cares to look or even register it._

_But back to the situation at hand._

 

“You did mention wanting to visit Amsterdam and I'd like you to have this.” He says softly. “You can invite yourself in anytime.”

“I don't think so.” Sakusa says and now all eyes are on him as he also pulls out not one, but two keys and Akaashi is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open slight. “This one is from the place our museum has for important guest and visitors. The other one is a copy of my own place.” A brief flicker of a smirk flashes before he still it. “Whichever you prefer.”

 

_There's a loud choking sound behind them, but no one notices that either._

 

“Aren't you two getting ahead of yourselves.” Akaashi manages to keep himself together, somehow. “Besides, I think it's only fair if Kageyama stays on neutral grounds.”

That being said,

he also places a key on the table.

 

_The sounds from behind them are getting inhuman, really._

_Not that anyone cares._

 

“How exactly is your place considered a neutral ground?” Sakusa asks, arching a brow. There's really nothing that can shake him, is there?

“I'll be in Italy until further notice.” Akaashi replies, politely.

“Uhm”, Kageyama clears his throat and all eyes fall on him, a slight note that they all somehow managed to forget for a moment that he was there, “I...really appreciate all of this, but”,

oh, hey.

 

_Another key._

 

“I'm covered for that part.” He ads, placing his own next to the four already aligned on the table. What a nice view it is.

 

_Someone should go ask why is there a pig being slaughtered at the table behind them, but they're in no hurry to do that._

 

“I still suggest you take this with you”, Akaashi leans his chin on the top of his hand as he prompts himself up on the table, way too amused by the situation, “you're the only one reliable here that I can ask to check on the place here and there. If that's okay with you.”

 _You little shit_ , is what he reads clearly from both Tsukishima (the more serious glare) and Sakusa (the highly amused smile).

It gets worse when they notice Kageyama's actually considering it. Just as Akaashi thought, he's not the one to say no to frivolous things like that. By the looks of it, he's quite happy to be asked. Always so helpful, Kageyama is.

_Ha._

_Your move._

“We'll get nowhere with this.” Sakusa says, reaching for his left pocket of the suit jacket he had hung over the chair. There's a plain key-chain in his hand as he picks up all the keys and puts them on the chain. “If you would like, you can stay at the museum's place until you check up on yours and our dear Akaashi's, _here and there_ , as for my own, we'll be working together on the same project so I really see no point in either of us waiting at the front door for the other to arrive.”

He glances at Tsukishima.

“As for Tsukishima's key, you're not obliged to use it, but I'm sure he'd be delighted for you to have it.”

And yes, he's struck the right cord and their reaction, however slight, tells him all he needs to know. He's going to have a ball with those two. Akaashi is showing slight concern, though.

Never mind that, for now.

There's a lot to cover between the two of them.

 

Meanwhile, at the parental entourage squad table, respectfully named by all three of them, all hell broke loose.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa don't breathe.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa just don't breathe. Neither does Hanamaki. Albeit for entirely different reasons.

The two of them are just staring at the scene unfolding in front of them ever since Kageyama sat back down. Sugawara is half into the whole thing as he's busy with the ongoing romantic texting between him and a certain someone back in Japan and Matsukawa's really busy with keeping Hanamaki in check.

_When Tsukishima brought out a key, Oikawa dropped the whole bottle. It shattered all over the floor but neither of them cared about their dress pants getting wine on them. They all wore dark fabrics tonight anyway. Hanamaki was ready to step dance on the damn table. Everyone else was impressed. Nice to see he's serious._

_When that Sakusa guy brought out two keys and they got wind of a part of the conversation, Iwaizumi choked on his remaining drink and Hanamaki on his own laughter. Matsukawa rubbed his own forehead, staring at the table, disbelief evident on his whole existence. Sugawara had to force himself from gaping like a fish._

_Akaashi-san's key had all of them make noises, Hanamaki's being the worst._

Then _Kageyama, sweet precious Kageyama_ , presented his own key and Hanamaki was ready to die on the spot with the largest face hurting grin and happy tears in his eyes Matsukawa, or anyone else for that matter, has ever seen on his face. Iwaizumi was done. Oikawa already dead and buried after the first key and Sugawara the proudest he's ever been in his life. Taking a few pictures along, of course.

Clearly, their clueless little cinnamon bun won the round, hands down.

What a time to be alive.

 _Also, no one is_ ever _going to doubt Hanamaki. One does not simply disregard Hanamaki Takahiro's sixth sense when it comes to all things regarding Kageyama Tobio._

 

_Though..._

_...when exactly did Kageyama managed to wrap three persons around his little finger, is something they're probably never going to find out._

 

_...or maybe they will?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little.
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> Sure.
> 
> Let's go with that.
> 
> Was it...too much?
> 
> Also, new work - story - in the writing. A little ghost story, mystery, youkai thingy that I'm working on. Anyone interested?


	25. In need of a breather

“Oh my God my precious Tobio-chan what is going on how when where if this is some-” Oikawa panics as they all mingle after the fifth speech. _Or was it the sixth?_

“Don't you dare blame this on one of your crazy ideas and let him have some fun.” Hanamaki cuts him off, tone not leaving any room for further discussion on the matter.

“ _But what if it's Stockholm syndrome?!?_ ” The man goes pale from worry and shock.

“ _What?_ ” Hanamaki barks.

“ _Dude..._ ” Matsukawa blinks at him and Sugawara is just... _wow, he really said that._

“ _Do you even know what that is?_ ” Iwaizumi sighs.

“Okay, whatever”, Hanamaki throws an arm around Oikawa's shoulders, waving a make-shift fan he made out of a napkin, “you need to calm down and breathe. I know this is a shock to you, but seriously, you need to chill.”

“But how can you-”

“Oikawa. No.” Hanamaki turns him by the shoulders and sits him down on the chair outside in the hallway where there's chill, fresh air streaming in, looking him straight into the eyes. “I've waited five years for this magical moment. I _will_ maim you if you do something to ruin it. The kid knows he can come to us if anything happens. Or even if he _suspects_ of anything happening.”

“But I-”

“Shush.” Hanamaki puts a finger to his lips. “All you need to do is have a little faith in him.”

“...”

“Oikawa?”

“Alright.” He mutters in the end, letting his shoulders fall and a huge sigh to escape. Hanamaki grins at him.

“That's the spirit.”

“Same goes for you too, Iwaizumi.”

“Why am I getting the talk?”

“You know why.”

“ _...fine._ ”

 

Matsukawa and Sugawara take out their little black books and tick the next thing on the list off. Seems like Hanamaki's in charge this evening. Sugawara's now owing Matsukawa a fifty. What a night. And it's not even midnight.

 

“Good news is”, Sugawara begins, pocketing his own booklet, “there's not much of this to go through. There's one more speech and we're off.”

“Great, because I want to know if they really have and exhibition of bouncy houses on the third floor.” Hanamaki says.

“Who told you that?” Matsukawa asks.

“Oikawa.”

_Of course he did. Who else?_

“He lied.”

“Thought as much but I'm not even mad.”

“Figures.”

“I hear they have an armour display on the third floor.”

“That's way cooler than bouncy houses.”

“Touch any of them, Makki, and I'll ban you from the studio back home.”

“ _You wouldn't._ ”

 

“ _Try me._ ”

 

“ _...fine._ ”

 

“I know a guy who makes that stuff.” Matsukawa offers.

The puppy eyes Hanamaki gives him solves the problem of what to get him for his next birthday.

 

Meanwhile, back at the table where the source of their joy and worry sits, Akaashi managed to drag Sakusa away and he let him and now Kageyama has the window he was looking for.

He places a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Tsuki-”

“I meant what I said.” He cuts him off, taking that hand off his shoulder, holding it in his own instead. “I'd want you to have that key and, _like Sakusa says,_ you don't have to use it, but it would mean a lot to me if you kept it.”

Because long distance relationships are hard and quite frankly, it sucks, but neither can really move around freely as they want to, not currently at least, with both sides having so much to do.

Tsukishima, for his part, couldn't face him if he hadn't picked his camera back up. He just couldn't. But that required him to stay in Amsterdam. In that apartment he once again came to appreciate, if nothing else. It feels like something close to home. And there's this thing he's been working on ever since the end of summer vacation, aside from getting back in touch with the people who helped him reach his heights the first time around.

There was also this thing with Akaashi, Kuroo and Bokuto, but this time around, he's helping out with informations instead of flying all around Europe. Not that he wouldn't jump in if the job called for a helping hand back in Amsterdam. It kinda stuck to him. Just, now, it became more of a irregular hobby.

Of course, he told Kageyama that and he was okay with it, because, why not? He won't judge. As long as they _don't end up kidnapping someone again in the process that is_. But even then, Tsukishima has a nagging vague feeling he'd help out.

He had that much confidence in him and that little sense of danger. _Now certified_.

And he now gets why the people around him freak out so much. He's actually surprised they didn't all just jump in on that little exchange and dragged him all the way back home, where it was safe and banned everyone from ever lying their eyes on him again. _Not that he would do that. Of course not._

_...maybe just a little._

But still.

 

_Okay, so maybe the whole keys thing was a bit overboard and just a little bit too early, but-_

 

The soft pressure of warm lips against his snap his thoughts out of the wild train ride they fallen into, eliciting a soft moan from him as he lets his eyes fall closed. _Heck, son_ , he _certainly_ missed _this_.

They part a few ( _too soon_ ) moments later and Kei wonders when he had stopped breathing. Because the noise was fuzzy and he was embarrassingly light headed, even if all he ever had was sparkling water up until now.

He can't look away from the _Prussian blue those eyes have become and yes, he memorised every shade of blue available. Because those eyes kept changing with every emotion, with every move and sometimes he's driving himself mad because what shades did he miss until now?_

Then, he registers Kageyama is _actually talking_ to him.

“...thank you. I really appreciate it. I...” And there is is, the wonderful dusting of pink and the deeper colour on the tips of hi ears, just like they were back in Italy and Tsukishima wants to go back and ditch everyone and everything here.

“ _...I didn't accept Sakusa-senpai's offer just for the...work..._ ”

…

 _He should_ not _be this affected._ _And yet, he has to force himself to breathe._

 

“ _Want to head out for a bit?”_

“ _Yeah.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn. Too hot. Stuffy room that one became, I say.


	26. A little caution, my friend

It's amusing, really, seeing how Akaashi tries but fails to get him to talk. Seeing that frustrated little scowl of his when they end yet another conversation where Akaashi ends up spilling all his secrets is a reward in itself. He soon drops the matter of a certain someone they both know and he turns the conversation to another topic Sakusa is also aware of.

If nothing else, he has to be.

“I assume you heard rumours.” Akaashi leans against a wall, between two Picasso's works. The gallery offers a not so surprising number of secluded area's fit to talk, considering it's size. It's still an architectural wonder, considering it's not sterile or unpleasant, despite it's size.

“Oh, I've heard.” He replies, playing with the glass he took from the table, lest Tsukishima slips something in it. Not that he would, he's not the type, but it's an interesting thought either way.

“What do you think?”

“For starters, that rumour goes way more back than you think so I wouldn't just brush it off.” Not unlike Akaashi, Sakusa likes to be a little know-it-all. Make that a huge know it all but he's not the one to go snooping around. Or talk to people in general about it. Even with the ones he probably should. News and whispers of other countries, unless it has to do with his own agenda currently in session, don't interest him all that much. He'll pass the information on, if he feels like it or needs to, but that's about it. Sometimes, not even that.

He's lazy like that.

This, however, is a persistent little nagging in the shadows that has yet to take on a form.

And with Kageyama soon to be expected in the Netherlands, he just can't let that slide. He won't.

“There was an incident not two years back, if you recall. The one with the broken alarm system in a small gallery? You had a pick up with that loud fellow in Lyon?”

Yes. Akaashi remembers. Bokuto insisted going there because he heard they had _an awesome omelette._ Which is conveniently named _omelette lyonnaise_. And about twenty three different potato dishes. But, he digresses.

“Nothing much, people reported suspects walking around the time the police estimated the alarms to be down but someone invested a great deal of resources to equip a rather insignificant gallery. Then it gets taken down in one evening?”

“So you think it could be an inside job?”

“I'd bet my brush collection on that.”

And mind you, that's one _fine_ brush collection.

“But the plan...?”

“What? The one where our mystery guests want to clear out the big names? Even if that were to happen, I don't think they are the main objective here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“ _Very well, Akaashi, since you've been trying so hard this entire evening_ ”, he begins with a little bit of well placed theatrics, which strikes a cord as the usually stoic person outright glares at him, “it's a little something dear Tobio taught me over the years, intentional or not, I do not know nor do I particularly care. He has an astounding eye for details and piecing things together, you should see how he deals with mosaics and patterns.”

 

 _There are way too many things wrong here for Akaashi to even begin_ , so he let's him speak his mind. At least he's willing _to do so_ , for once. Also, he'll see to it he sends make-your-own-mosaics kit. Should be fun.

 

“I've noticed a pattern ever since that little seemingly insignificant detail and I still don't know why I even bothered because that wasn't even in the country. Someone is trying really hard for the past two years and I have my reasons for believing much of the recent rumours are just to ruffle some feathers.”

Interesting theory. It's amazing how Akaashi manages to forget what kind of mind this man has. Mostly because of his personality, he deduces. _Must_ be it. And there's another parallel with Kageyama although he's on the other side of the spectrum of being oblivious to some things. But he'll save himself the headache this evening.

“So the part where they mention Cézzane...?”

“That could be true. Some of his works are relatively unknown to the wider public. This all points out to a personal hunt.”

Regretfully, Akaashi is actually quite grateful Sakusa's on their side in this whole not-really-but-still-pretty-shady part of the business.

“...and you managed to get all that over the past two years?”

“I was bored.”

“...of course you were, Sherlock.”

Sakusa ignores the remark. He's busy tipping the glass over until the contents are threatening to spill all over the floor.

 

“Tell you the truth, this all heavily reminds me of the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum case. I can't explain it, it's something about the laid back atmosphere and the time they are taking. And if I'm correct, they also plan to whisk some pretty interesting things away.”

They lock eyes for a moment and Akaashi briefly wonders how he manages not to spill his glass because the liquid is nerve-wracking close to doing so.

 

“ _We could ask Tobio._ ”

 

If Akaashi had a glass, he'd be dropping it right now at the sight of Sakusa's smug expression. He can't believe he's this shaken up.

“ _You..._ ” he stars, eye closing briefly to keep his calm, “ _are unbelievable._ ”

That smug bastard has one of the most melodic sounding laughs he's ever heard in a person. Like he needs it.

 

“The way _you're_ in denial is unbelievable.” Sakusa says, way too amused for it to be healthy at this point, but he finally straightens the damn glass. “Personally, I don't see what your problem is. Hanging out with the kid might do you some good. _Unless those sympathies of yours run a bit deeper than you'd like to admit?_ ” He tilts his head to the side as he studies him.

“Denying things won't make them go away, you know.”

“Yes, I find him interesting. I'll admit I wouldn't mind knowing him better. But that's it.”

“Is it?”

The look of those green eyes pretty much confirmed _that one_ to be true. Shame. Less wok for him that way. Would have been interesting, though.

“You play with people way too much.” Akaashi says, feeling tired. This guy is definitely a piece of work. Listening to Bokuto ramble nonsense and about random things in random order is one thing he did _not_ expect to be looking forward after this.

“I've been told that.” Sakusa, to his credit, does tone it down a notch. Which is _a lot_ for his standards.

“Do I have to worry about something, Sakusa?”

“No.”

 

 _You_ don't.

_Tsukishima Kei, on the other hand, just might._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one, because why not?


	27. Moments

The closed terrace of the new gallery was something, alright. Not many places of that nature have it in the first place. Though, he can't deny it has a certain charm. He read about it in his copy of the magazine he works with. Something to do with having a different view on what a gallery is and what it displays. Basically, the winter landscape he's seeing is a work of art of its own. A picture that constantly changes with the weather and seasons. Not a bad idea, at all.

But that doesn't matter all that much – he's really not the one to marvel at architecture in his free time, unless there's someone with him, like right now – but even Kageyama Tobio is not all that interested in what the place has to offer this time of night and that's a real achievement, knowing him.

Tsukishima _can't say_ he's _disappointed_ , seeing how _he's_ the one who has his full, undivided attention.

 

_It's an intense yet gentle look he's seen on him before, when he asked him to show him how he paints. Back then, it was more...reserved. Almost bordering on being shy._

_It's how open and without restraint it is now that gets him deep. Looking at him as if he were his favourite piece of art – no, not quite. There's something even more intense running deep. The way he's looking at Tsukishima would make quite a few pieces jealous. It sends pleasant sparks down his spine and makes his skin tingle. When he looks at him like that, Tsukishima feels so privileged. As if he's the most important thing in the world._

_The way those eyes fall to his lips, the way he bites his own lightly when they do, before looking back up at him...he's a natural when it comes to making Tsukishima's head spin and blood burn, fingers itch and knees weak without even trying. It's borderline ridiculous._

 

_But he can't help it._

 

_He won't help it._

 

_He'll let him wrap him around his little finger without even meaning to. He'll let himself fall over and over again._

_He can see clearly what he wants, even without so much as a sound._

_But he stops – restraint wrapping around him all too easily and now, Tsukishima is a bit disappointed._

_He has this habit of doing that, for reasons well known to Tsukishima, and he won't push. He can take all the time he needs. There is no need to rush. All else aside, it's thrilling. Why ruin a good thing?_

 

_Maybe because it's fun to ruin it, here and there. A little push is also a good thing, when you know it's needed._

 

_The first thing Kageyama noticed about him were his hands. It's more of a habit of his to look than intentional curiosity. He's still convinced he would be an excellent sculptor. He's even more convinced every time those hands do something, handle something, touch something. He's most convinced when those fingers brush gently against his cheek before he can feel them oh so warm and confident right under his jawline, thumbs brushing his skin in a soothing, comforting manner as he holds him still, leaning in to close the gap between them._

_Kageyama isn't sure what melts his bones more, the touch of his lips or the presence of those warm large hands. It's intoxicating and he can't help but voice the appreciation, as muffled as it sounds._

_So much for getting some air,_ Tsukishima thinks as they part.

Whatever else he wanted to say to him all but evaporated, he was content just standing close to him like this. Their relationship never required many words to convey the obvious.

He liked that.

What he didn't like was the distance that seeped in. He didn't want Kageyama to think that he didn't care as much as he did. Like he does. There is so much he wants to show him and tell him but they have so little time and now, when he could begin, he rather relaxed with his arms around Kageyama's waist.

“ _What is it?_ ” Kageyama whispers, sensing a tension in his shoulders.

“ _When are you flying back?_ ” He asks.

“ _Day after tomorrow._ ”

“ _...would it be awful of me to steal you away for tonight?_ ” Or what's left of it, for that matter. “ _And bring you back some time tomorrow?_ ”

“ _When do you have to go back?_ ” Kageyama asks softly, smoothing out the fabric of Tsukishima's tie. Not that it needs smoothing out, but it's a comforting move to make.

“ _Within the week._ ” He says, leaning down and resting his forehead against his. “I've got a few things to cover while I'm here. Editor would be grateful if I got him some nice shots.”

“I'd like to see them, too.”

“You will.” Tsukishima smiles. “So?”

“I think they'll live.”

“ _Hope you brought something warm, then.”_

“ _I've got you.”_

 

The final speech of the evening is already in full swing, or at least the spokesperson is, but they don't really pay attention as they walk right past the open doors and Tsukishima catches a bored looking Hanamaki practically falling asleep as he listens. It takes him half a second to perk up and grin at him as their looks meet briefly and Tsukishima motions to be quiet with a small smile. Hanamaki gives him a thumb up and leans back in his seat, in a much better mood.

Tsukishima's got a feeling this might help him better than coffee to get through the rest of the evening.

Stockholm is, and he will repeat it again, one of the most beautiful cities he has visited. There's nothing like standing on a bridge near _Gustav Adolfs torg_ , or the square of Gustav Adolf, with the wind biting the tip of his nose as he looks down at the ice broken into pieces, floating on the water, with such a sense of calm.

Kageyama doesn't pay much attention as to where they are going; the only thing that did catch his attention is the building of the the _Dansmuseet_ and later on, the _Medelhavsmuseet_ as they reach the _torg_ , and of course how can he not recognise the _Arvfursten Palats_ and the _Kungliga Operan –_ the _Royal Swedish Opera_ , a place he should so visit when he stays over in Amsterdam. He'll have time and the distance won't be that much of a problem. He's always wanted to visit there, just after visiting Rome.

Maybe his next vacation should be Stockholm. At least for a few days. The city speaks to him in volumes and he has no idea why.

“I was thinking getting on a roof”, Tsukishima begins, amused, and Kageyama can't help but smile, “but there's too much ice.”

“That's the excuse you're going with?” Kageyama teases back as he inhales deeply, almost regretting it because it's really cold but it does do a perfect job of waking him up completely.

“Fine. My shoes don't exactly agree with the conditions.”

“Mine neither.”

Dress shoes and low temperatures rarely do, especially if you move by car for the special evening.

“I like it here.” Kageyama says as he leans on the railing, watching the ice.

“Because everyone is blond?” Tsukishima teases as he joins him, though with his back against the railing.

“One of the reasons.” Kageyama teases back. Then a thought occurs to him.

“What are the odds of someone trying to break in somewhere here?”

No sooner he speaks the words, there's the echoing sound of glass shattering. A moment later, there's the sound of two or more cats fighting and Kageyama is in stitches at the whole situation and Tsukishima's face.

“For a moment there.” Tsukishima says and Kageyama is crouching in the snow, shoulders shaking from laughter. “For a moment.”

Though, Tsukishima highly doubts they would have reacted any different if there really was a situation. Like, really, what are the odds.

It takes a while for Kageyama to calm down and by the time he does, Tsukishima can't tell whether his face is red from the cold or the laughing fit. The laughter still has him trembling here and there as he tries to form words, but he won't underestimate the cold winds here. This late at night. Which reminds him.

“Please be a little less amused by all of this.” He mutters as Kageyama tries to keep it down. “How am I supposed to tell the Swedish police you woke up the neighbourhood laughing at two cats and a broken milk bottle or whatever without explaining why it was so damn funny in the first place?"

“Because art.” Kageyama says, but cracks again and Tsukishima has to bite his own lip in order not to crack with him.

“Come here, you're going to freeze.” Tsukishima says as he opens his arms to wrap them around Kageyama. That seems to calm him down a bit.

Until he all but implodes.

“It's not _that_ funny.” Tsukishima, against his own will, smiles wide.

“Yes, it is.”

Seriously, he was falling apart.

“Fine, so it is a little funny.” He admits, holding him close. “But I still think this cold is affecting you. I should probably take you home.”

“Yes, it's getting a bit nippy.”

“Nippy? Alright, you're out.”

“I've only had half a glass.”

“Obviously, I'm the problem.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes at his confusion.

He has no idea how he did it or what gave it away but there they are, standing on a bridge, and Tsukishima is fighting his own panic as he opens his mouth.

“No, wait, I didn't-” He outright babbles, stopping and taking a deep breath. That's the last time he's in the same room with Akaashi and Sakusa.

“ _Please don't think what I think you're thinking._ ” He so wants to toss those two over the bridge so bad.

“I've got cold feet.”

“I-”

“No, I've literally got cold feet.” Kageyama interrupts. “These shoes are _terrible._ ”

It took him a moment to realise what he was talking about.

 

_And then Tsukishima was in stitches._

 

It's an ungodly hour when the hotel room opens and two people come in.

“Towel.” Tsukishima says as he presents one.

“Hot water.” He points to the bathroom.

“If you please.”

He's closed the door behind him and starts getting undressed. Shoes and socks completely drenched along with his dress pants on the rim. Nothing a drying session and cleaning couldn't fix.

His fingers are somewhat stiff from the cold, as his toes are but his face couldn't be any hotter. He was _this_ close to ask Tsukishima to join him.

It wasn't like he-

_Breathe_

He didn't-

_Breathe again_

 

_Oh God_

 

He hides his face in his hands as he crouches down in the shower, knocking some stuff over while at it.

“Is everything alright in there?” He can hear Tsukishima's voice from behind the door and a wave of panic washes over him.

“F-fine.” great, even his voice is acting up, “stiff fingers, is all.”

“Right. Be careful.”

“Sure.”

He really wants to kick himself but with limbs half decently responding, that would make an even bigger ruckus.

_And he didn't even lock the doors behind him._

 

_Tsukishima briefly wonders whether the shower is acting up from being recently replaced as he hears a tiny squeak._

_The the water starts running and he guesses it was just his imagination._

_Though he hopes they won't sleep in too late today._

 

_He'd hate to waste a nice day the forecast was promising when Kageyama seemed so interested in the city._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I had fun writing this one.


	28. Whispers all around

“Oh, Kageyama's with Tsukishima.” Hanamaki says, casually, as he stirs his coffee that morning, quite comfy in his seat in the hotel's dining area and café.

“This early?” Oikawa asks, contorting his face so not to yawn like a hippo right afterwards, taking the empty seat across his _all-things-organisation_ man.

Who looks way too awake and happy for seven fifteen after five-six speeches, he didn't count, one party, one deck and avoid mission and one after-party that ended some three hours ago. How he does it, Oikawa can't even begin to get. He prefers cosying up in a blanket after a day's work unless he's forced to show up to this or that party in the season. Or promotion. Or whatever else his job requires. If he really can't dump that on someone else.

“He never left.”

“Huh?”

“Or should I say”, he tilts his head, “he never came back?”

 _Oh, the faces Oikawa makes are beyond priceless._ He should pick up photography and start his own collection. He's sure Sugawara, Matsukawa and Iwaizumi would appreciate it. Maybe even Kageyama some day. But not likely. The kid doesn't enjoy seeing him suffer. Shame.

Oikawa is stuck between being crippled with panic and chill as the weather outside. His mind is torn with _oh, god, what if something happens_ and _on the other hand, it's too early and I didn't send him anywhere, so he should be fine_ and _I have people to deal with things_.

 _Why, yes_ , he calms down, relaxed by the sudden realisation of just what his mind thought of.

_He has very reliable people to handle things and nothing from this point out is his fault. Oh, sweet relief._

“Finally got to some conclusions?” Hanamaki asks politely, eyes fixed on his boss.

“Yup.” He replies, dumping way too much sugar into his coffee. “Whatever happens, it's on you.” For now, that's enough for Oikawa.

Close enough, but Hanamaki will take it.

 

The wonderful thing about him is that if  _he_ doesn't panic too much, it's Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi, thankfully, is more prone to stop and tink before he starts panicking.

 

_Also, those two should stop worrying like two overprotective parents and siblings and let Hanamaki deal with this. He's the expert here._

_Along with Sugawara and Matsukawa, of course._

 

“So”, Hanamaki begins, taking out four envelopes with the seal and stamp of the gallery they went to last night and the early morning, placing them on the table, all neat and aligned and Oikawa has a very, _very_ bad feeling, “ _I'm listening._ ”

 

_New job offers._

 

Oikawa is stunned speechless.

He can't believe those three new gallery owners went behind his back and handed out job offers to his employees. No, even worse, his precious family. Although,  _some_ members  _could_ use some toning down on the sly and evil, but they're still  _his_ little obnoxious devils.

_Even worse than that_ , it's  _Hanamaki_ who has all four of those.

“Forget it.” Oikawa shoots, taking a sip and cringing slightly at the too _salty_ coffee. “I'm not doing this without Iwa-chan.”

“Suit yourself.” Hanamaki says. “But may I remind you that by the time he gets here, Suga and Issei will be down here, too.”

_Well, poop on a stick._

If this is a disadvantage, then the alternative is a whole other circle of hell. Designed by Hanamaki Takahiro personally.  _Was he always this evil?_

_He must be_ , his brain informs him,  _how else would he have survived this job until now?_

Which makes him think.

All of them, aside Tobio-chan and Iwa-chan (to an extent) are pretty ruthless. Even to him. Openly. That is the main point. No, wait. They're not. They're sneaky to the point of him thinking even for a second that they move openly. He almost fell for it. Hell, he has been falling for it until  _now_ .

Makes him wonder if he really knows what lurks under the calm, oblivious at times, demeanour of both Iwa-chan and Tobio-chan.

_It's a rather unsettling thought._

 

“Let me see those.” He reaches out, grabbing the first envelope.

He knows he's in for a heavy duty debate the moment he starts ripping the envelope.

_But he's Oikawa Tooru._

_And he'll be damned if he lets anyone mess with his den of demons he calls friends and family._

 

He reads the first one, and as luck would have it, it's an offer for Matsukawa.

In all his years, in all the situations he's been and all the different poker-faced, fine play bullshit he's successfully managed so far, this must be the _only time_ he's grateful for the job preparations he's been through.

_Because dealing with people that are close to you is by far the toughest thing to do._

And _boy oh boy,_ this _is going to be tough._

 

It's also immensely reassuring that none of the envelopes are opened. He's the first one to do so. Hell, he shouldn't even be opening this. Legally, he's not allowed to. But who cares. Not like they're going to sue him for it.

Play it cool. Play it smooth.

_Don't show fear._

 

“Name your terms.” He says after a while.

“Oh, I prefer to have a favour.”

_He was afraid he'd say that._

“As you wish.”

“Those must be some offers for you to give in so quickly.”

 _Clever little shit, are you_ , the inner Oikawa mocks.

“Or is it that you care that much?”

_So maybe he does. What's it to y-_

_Shut up, inner Oikawa._

“I'm flattered.” Hanamaki says, leaning back into his seat, dropping the negotiation aura. Oikawa isn't sure if he should be flattered by it or offended to boot.

“I'll stick to the favour.” The pink haired man says with a n honest smile.

Oikawa, too, loosens up.

“Want to read it?” He offers, holding it up between two fingers.

“Nope. Not interested.”

Of course not. Oikawa's eye almost twitches. He should have known. But. He's not to complain.

_He'll just sorely regret it later._

“I suggest you get another cup.” Hanamaki offers, taking a sip of his own. “It's not like you _have_ to drink the groom's coffee.”

“I think I'll take that offer.” Oikawa tears up a wee bit as he sets the salted liquid aside. “Waiter, please. I need a new one.”

“I've got interesting news.” Hanamaki states as Oikawa gets a new cup, ignoring the salt and sugar completely this time around.

“Regarding?”

“ _Our little kidnapping incident._ ” He murmurs just over the rim of the cup.

Oikawa is practically transformed into an ear.

“The ones who went after that miniature of yours”, he begins, all serious, for once, “they are collaborating with this new mystery group no one knows much about.”

“I've been told they are after some really specific works and not one of them is all that known. There should be trouble expected in London, Paris and Amsterdam, but in some minor museums and galleries. I can get the exact locations in a few days. As to which specific artworks are in danger, that will be difficult to determine as of yet. The exact time is also unknown.” He pauses, relief evident in his eyes as he looks up to Oikawa.

“Our Kageyama was never their target.”

O _ikawa first takes a double check if his pants are still unsullied, and then melts into a puddle._

_Sweet Madonna del Prato._

He could start _weeping._

Not that he will.

_(...here.)_

“Wait, when you say the ones who went after the miniature...”

“I mean the ones who commissioned the group that actually did it. The group of people who snatched the miniature and Kageyama is really small so I can't say I can track them down any time soon. If ever.”

“How so?”

“No one knows whether that really _is_ a group or just a few individuals getting together for a one-time gig. I'd say the latter and if it is, that's going to be a wild goose chase.”

“I see.” Well that's a bummer. Then he shrugs. Subject dropped.

Exactly five minutes passes until Oikawa then realises  _another thing_ .

 

“Kageyama is going to be in Amsterdam for quite a while.” Hanamaki states softly and Oikawa can't look him into the eyes. _He doesn't dare to_.

“He...asked?” Oikawa squeaks out, faintly, when he could feel his skin burn on the spot Hanamaki rested his gaze on. _How the hell can someone so goofy and sweet muster a look so sharp and cold?_

 

The intense mood lasts for a few agonising seconds.

 

“Fine.”

 

_As long as Kageyama was the one who asked first._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Groom's coffee is a tradition in Turkey where the future bride to be salts the coffee to test the character of her future husband. She makes the coffee, puts salt in it and serves without saying a word, of course. If he remains quiet, he's a keeper. If he starts complaining, well. You can guess.
> 
> Madonna del Prato (Madonna of the Meadow) is a painting by Raphael made in 1505 in Florence. The painting is now housed in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna, Austria. Madonna del Prato, also known as Madonna of the Meadow depicts Virgin Mary looking down to baby Jesus and his cousin John the Baptist who is kneeling and offering a cross to Jesus. The painting was created for Taddeo Taddei and remained in the Taddei family until 1660s when it was sold to Ferdinand Charles, Archduke of Austria.
> 
> Oikawa knows his art.


	29. Birthday surprises

December 22nd rounds the second after midnight and Kageyama is trying to open his eyes but gives up on the idea when he manages to grab his lively sound and light-show of a phone without any problems.

“Hmm?” He hums, hopefully loud enough for the other side, whoever it was, to hear.

“ _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_ ” A few voices yell at the same time with another yelling to _cut the crap, it's midnight for fuck's sake_ but then proceeds to wish him a happy birthday as well.

Kageyama, as dead tired as he was, managed to laugh a bit. Or at least _sigh in amusement_.

“Mhmm.” He again hums because everything except his ears and the finger pressing against the phone to keep it in place is asleep or in the sleep paralysis mode.

_Sleep._

_Sleep sounds good._

 

“ _Be prepared tomorrow morning, you won't know what hit ya!_ ” A lively voice tells him.

“ _That makes no sense._ ” Another ads, but Kageyama doesn't even hear the first one as he simply slips back into dreamland, with the phone beside his ear.

Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.

Taking almost 12 hour shifts can take a toll, even on him.

 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was divine enough to send some helping hands after Sugawara helped out at his place. The work load he, Matsukawa and Sugawara had to deal with _halved in two weeks_. All thanks to them.

The works in need of immediate attention were dealt with, one cutting pretty close with the amount of mould covering it. The three of them cringed at the sight of the state it had been brought in. There was no doubt that the mould seeped through the layers of the canvas all the way to the other side. Cracks in the mostly organic paint and the very nature of the mostly organic paint were the worst nightmare of anyone who's in this and all related businesses.

 _That one_ alone took those two weeks _just to prepare it_ for (the _mostly_ experimental _attempt_ of) salvation. Around a month of work will be required until they can start dipping their brushes and bringing out the former shine. As close as it gets to it, that is.

At least, they hoped. No telling what awaits them until the solutions have done their magic.

Worst case scenario, the painting is done for. Little less horrifying scenario, they'll have to figure out what colour goes where as they re-do it from a photo. _A black and white_ photo. How are they going to figure that one out is a thing for future them to deal with.

_Feel the joy of the job._

Maybe the content of the original paint, _or what's left of it_ , will prove to be of some use. _If_ they manage to scrape enough of it from the canvas. Provided they don't dissolve the whole thing in the first place.

Because, then, it's gonna be hell.

Not that the owner will be mad – they are fully aware of all the dangers and miserable success chances of restoring the painting – _but Matsukawa knows_ Kageyama was never around pieces that were beyond salvation and chances were, he'd end up miserable, too. He knows he's been through that before.

It was hell, to put it nicely.

Worse than a break up. Worse than someone's death. Just horrible. Real heartbreaking and soul aching.

 

Now that he thinks about it, as he waits to see if the solution they applied on the painting, maybe he should have just told the owner to deal with the loss. For his and Kageyama's sake, mostly.

He and Sugawara never lost hope until the very last, but you know it's bad when they have little to no hope in the first place.

 _Then again_ , he recalls, _there have been cases similar to this one where Kageyama had quite some ideas on how to tackle it_. Most of them extreme and _gods help us_ , but hey, they worked in the end.

This one, an oil on canvas, 13 x 26 cm, dated around 1602, give or take, stored in damp cellars and poorly treated with quick repairs most likely ever since, may even force ever so resourceful Kageyama Tobio to admit defeat.

Hopefully, sooner that later, if things get to that point.

One could easily attach themselves to works if dealing with them for a longer time. Even if one knows they're beyond help unless some divine intervention interferes.

Nope, Matsukawa can't think of one good reason why he didn't tell the owner the grim news the moment he saw it, as he watches the unholy carpet covering the painting slowly _brew_. He was way too soft hearted when it acmes to poor works like this. Shame on him. He'll be the one that is responsible for Kageyama's heart breaking over this.

Why?

Because the kid came up with a whole list of things they could do. He really put his heart into this.

 

_Hanamaki was going to kill him._

 

It was _that_ bad.

 

“So how are things?” Sugawara asks as he comes inside the more sterile part of the studio, situated in the basement with special made filters and ventilation systems, mask and gloves and the whole surgeon look present, as was Matsukawa's.

“I think I made a mistake.” Matsukawa reluctantly admits, carefully studying the process unfolding before his eyes.

“In applying the solution?” Sugawara arches his brow in worry. Kageyama spent four hours calculating and then three more hitting biology books with them on this one.

“In accepting it in the first place.” He elaborates, easing Sugawara's worries a bit.

“Well, that...” Sugawara begins, mind in the fifth gear to come up with something,but even his shoulders slump a bit. “Yep, you certainly nailed this one.”

Matsukawa figured he's say that. Didn't hurt any less in anticipating it, though.

“You are way too soft for this.” Sugawara says, patting his back.

“I know.”

“The good news is, it's _you_ so Hanamaki will probably hand over a swift and clean death.”

“Those _are_ good news.” Matsukawa agrees.

They fall silent for a good while, watching the carpet loosen a bit on _some_ parts. Which are considerably more numerous than the ones the carpet _did not_ loosen. At all. Bring out the champagne.

 _If_ the loosened parts dry out properly and not simply disintegrate within the few hours the solution needs to finish its intended purpose.

“If we pull this off”, Sugawara begins, eyes glued on the thing, shaking his head slight, “I don't even know.”

“I feel you.” Matsukawa agrees, also staring at the thing, albeit _very carefully_ , lest his glaring does something to it.

“So how do we put it out of its misery?” Matsukawa turns his gaze on him with that _you-are-really-pushing-it-today-do-you-even-realise-that_ look.

“We should be prepared, is all I'm saying.” Sugawara shrugs in his defence.

“Why don't you take your precautions and throw them out the window just this once because I don't even want to consider it.”

“You know that's a really bad idea.”

“I know. Now be quiet.” Matsukawa goes back to _gently gaze upon the painting_ and _the potential chemical horrors he exposed it to_.

 

Kageyama Tobio walks _into the studio_ at 10 am because Iwaizumi and Hanamaki threatened to change the pass codes if they see him any earlier than that, but they didn't state that he wasn't allowed to be _in the building_ if he showed up earlier.

Besides, they attempted to wake him up at midnight.

His phone states so.

He doesn't really remember.

 

“We killed it.” Sugawara states, looking at the mess that is an old painting covered in mould.

“The painting or the carpet.” Matsukawa arches a brow slight at it.

“A little bit of both, but more of the carpet.”

“I'll take it.”

“Did it work?” Kageyama perks up as he realises the two of them are talking about their newest assignment as he walks through the doors.

“Yep.” They say in unison, standing close together to obscure Kageyama's view of it before they do some repairs of their own.

“It still needs some time to soak through, though.” Sugawara says, ushering him right back out the door. “Before we get to work”, _preferably on some other things_ , “there's a little surprise for you but don't tell them we told you.”

Oh, right. His birthday. That didn't end the moment they all shouted their congratulations over the speaker.

Speaking of which, there's a call.

“Kageyama speaking.” He answers as Matsukawa and Sugawara steer him out the basement.

“I wish you a happy birthday, Tobio.” Sakusa says on the other side of the line, carefully applying the dark paint on the canvas. “How have you been?”

“Thank you, Sakusa-senpai.” Kageyama says as the two older men pause their steering because they have to get into the escalator. “Working, mostly, we had an emergency repair.

 _And that's putting it oh so mildly_ , Sugawara thinks. _Think butterfly on the back of a fluffy bunny made out of clouds._

“ _Tell me about it._ ”

“It's horrible. I can send you some photos if you'd like.”

“ _I'd like that, yes._ ”

“Okay.”

“ _By the way, everything's ready for your arrival in January. All you need to do is send me your preferred brands of chemicals and we can start right away._ ” And that's partially a lie in the department where Sakusa doesn't know his preferred brand.

“That's great.”

“ _Best wishes once more and have fun._ ”

“Thank you. You too.”

 _Well wasn't that just cute?_ Matsukawa thinks as the proceed stuffing themselves into the escalator now that Kageyama's phone call ended. _Sending each other gore-ish pictures of old fine art is certainly Matsukawa's idea of friendly bonding._

The signal dies for a few moments until the escalator doors open for a second time and Kageyama's introduced to a loud popping sound and a variety of colourful, glimmering, shimmering and sparkling confetti. Along with ribbons, loud cheers and bear hugs.

He can't help but smile at the ridiculous party hats. Probably Makki's idea.

“Happy birthday, you little workaholic.” Hanamaki says, squeezing the air out of his lungs, while spinning him around.

“Thank you, Makki-san.” He breathes out, grunting at the grip. It's not uncomfortable per say, but he needs his oxygen.

“Makki-san. Air.” He wheezes out.

“Right. Sorry about that.” Hanamaki grins as he puts him down. The man might not look like it, but he's got strength. Plenty of it, as well.

“So we were thinking lunch, cake, movies, diner and the grand finale.” Hanamaki lists as Matsukawa and Sugawara ruffle his hair. Which Matsukawa then brushes to the side.

“But I have work to do.” Kageyama blinks at him.

“It's your birthday.” He states.

“But-”

“Birthdays are now officially off-work days.” Oikawa chimes in, holding a great deal of presents. “Happy birthday.”

“Wow, Oikawa.” Matsukawa says, impressed.

“What?” Oikawa blinks at the bunch and even Iwaizumi in the corner arches a brow at him.

“You're seriously denying him the only thing he actually likes doing around here?” Sugawara covers his mouth in shock. “On his _birthday_?”

“Huh?” Oikawa blinks, confused.

“Knock it off you two.” Iwaizumi mutters as he passes them, reaching into his pocket, ignoring their knowing smiles.

“Happy birthday, kid.” He says and hands him his gift. “Just, don't open it until tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” Kageyama agrees as he takes it. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Iwaizumi nods, offering a wide grin as he too ruffles his hair. Which Matsukawa immediately fixes.

“Here are their presents!” Oikawa gleams, dumping the lot he carried onto the first available flat surface.

“Hey.”

“Watch it.”

Oikawa ignores them as he walks over to Kageyama.

“And here's mine!” He smiles as he presents a big, heavy box.

Filled with every supply he'll ever need for the next five or so years. Also, there's a small favour coupon. Hanamaki almost keels over when he sees it, but says nothing as he watches the mildly confused look on Kageyama's face.

Okay, so they look the other way when Kageyama goes and tries the new brushes out.

“These are great.” The youngest says, happy bubble wrapped all around him and Oikawa wants to squeak.

“Knew you'd like them.” He says, eyes wide and sparkly.

“Oh, my, is the great Oikawa Tooru crying?”

“Shut up or no bonuses this month.”

“You can't do that.”

“Why, yes, yes I can. I am still your boss.”

“...true.”

“Here you go.” Hanamaki bypasses the lot, giving Kageyama an unsealed envelope. “Hope you like it. It's the tickets for the afternoon show.”

Kageyama opens the envelope and true to Hanamaki's words, there are tickets inside. All six of them.

But for a volleyball match that is to be held in Tokyo.

There's a sense of triumph as he watches his eyes grow wide in pleasant surprise.

“This is-”

“Yep.”

“How did you-”

“Got them before we went to Italy.”

“Makki-san, I-”

“You're welcome.” The man grins, tilting his head before he and Kageyama sit down to rummage through the huge box Oikawa gave him to see what else they might find.

“...is all I'm asking.” Matsukawa tells Oikawa before he walks over to Kageyama to present his gift.

“Many happy returns, Kageyama.” Matsukawa smiles as he hands over a binder. Which contains the _Swedish Royal Opera's_ programme and tickets for the upcoming year along with the one from the _Dutch National Opera & Ballet_.

“How did you know?” Their mind reading skills have somehow gotten borderline creepy. He'll lay of the remembering of certain things.

“You? Miss out on an opportunity to visit an Opera house? In what universe?” Matsukawa winks at him before Sugawara joins them. “Your favourite will play in the second half of January in the _Dutch National_."

“Happy birthday, once more.” Sugawara smiles, presenting a box.

With a pretty good photo-camera in it. At least Kageyama thinks it is. He's got no idea. Cameras are _not_ his forte, not even remotely.

“I asked around what the best model for a beginner would be and most of them agreed on this one.” Sugawara says. “There are instructions there, but”, he leans closer so no one else can hear him as he whispers, “ _you can always ask Tsukishima-kun to show you how it goes._ ”

_The faint tint of pink on his face was thanks enough for Sugawara._

 

“Move it, people, we have a lunch, a cake and a game to get to. Today.”

“Right, right.”

“Don't get your pants in a twist, let us two change first.”

“Hurry it up.”

“Kageyama, you coming? Bring the camera with you.”

“Coming.” He says as he checks for the tickets, Iwaizumi's gift and the camera. He's a little disappointed he can't use the things Oikawa got him, but he'll get to that, soon, hopefully.

Lunch is a riot as only that bunch can make it, the cake is a less sweet version of a Schwartzwald cake, there's a phone call and best wishes in a very loud tone from Bokuto-san, a little less loud from Kuroo-san and one perfectly normal toned from Akaashi through out the ride to the game. Hanamaki appears with a ton of popcorn as they all get seated.

“This isn't a basketball game, Makki.”

“So? I heard Space Jam playing so I can indulge myself in popcorn if I want to.” He shrugs.

“You almost ate half the cake alone.”

“I'm still growing.”

“Yeah. In width.”

“You're just jealous of my popcorn.”

“Yes, I am, now hand some over.”

“Ask me politely first.”

Matsukawa simply leans in an places a kiss on his temple as he grabs a the huge box and places it in the middle.

“You're welcome.” Hanamaki smiles.

 

_The game begins._

 

Needless to say all six of them nearly lost their shit about half the time every set. That was one intense game, son. Close call for the visiting team, too, but they somehow managed to beat their opponents in the last set. Barely. With a one point difference. Certainly a match to remember.

Upon getting back into the car, ignoring the fact that there was one passenger too many in it, they roll out of the parking lot.

“What time is it?” Iwaizumi asks, looking at the mirror before switching gears.

“Ten minutes to seven.” Sugawara offers and wonders what the look shared between Iwaizumi and Oikawa means.

“Hold on tight.” Iwaizumi says as he steps on it.

“Whoa there, where's the fire?” Hanamaki asks.

“You'll see.”

 

They all _do_ wonder why Iwaizumi parks at the airport but that's resolved quick enough as the all exit the car and Iwaizumi turns to Kageyama.

“You can now open my gift.” He says and they all watch Kageyama do just that.

“Plane tickets?” Kageyama asks as he pulls out a ticket and all the necessary reservations, visa's and other paperwork.

“Yes. Your flight to Amsterdam is in half an hour. We packed the essentials and we'll send the rest after you.” He says as Oikawa gets a travel bag from the trunk and enjoys the betrayed, scandalised and very impressed looks the both of them are getting from the unholy trinity.

Sugawara and Matsukawa share a look and shrug. At least they'll get all the time they need to make that painting...uh... _presentable_ again. They might have just delayed the disappointment, but hey. Hope dies last or something along those lines.

Kageyama doesn't know what to say. For a moment there, all five witness the same confused kid they practically jumped and dragged off to art school once upon a time.

 

_“Have a safe flight.” They all say._

 

Hanamaki cries as they walk back to the car once they have seen him off.

“This must be the most underhanded thing you two have done and I am very proud to be associated with you.” He sobs, taking the handkerchief Matsukawa offers him.

“We know.”

 

“ _Never do that again.” He blows his nose. “Without me.”_

 

“ _We won't.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus:
> 
> “By the way, where did you get all of that on short notice?”
> 
> “Hello, I'm Oikawa Tooru.”
> 
> “Oh, right.”
> 
> “What's that supposed to mean?”


	30. A warm welcome

December 22nd neared it's end and Tsukishima was at a loss on what to do. He got caught up in a minor project he thought up doing to have it done by Kageyama's birthday.

 

The good news is, he had it done.

Bad news is, he had no chance of having it delivered to him on time since it was unfortunately done _on December 22_ _nd_ _at nine thirty in the morning_.

 

Because the news agency and his editor here in Amsterdam needed some hard to get materials and they needed them quick. Too bad _quick_ qualified in this business _as half a month of around the clock work_. Akiteru could only do so much on a short notice, but he was grateful he did that bit. Add the usual pre-Christmas madness to get things done on time which is already scarce and you get one Tsukishima Kei, exhausted from working almost non-stop, standing in front of his own apartment door, with a key in one hand and a present for Kageyama that he really hopes he will like when he gives it to him. At some point.

It's nearing ten in the evening when he finally has full three weeks off, but sadly, as it often he's sure occurs, the date is all wrong. Had he not been in Stockholm for that gallery assignment, he'd have all the time in the world for this one, all neatly wrapped up and Akiteru really outdone himself with this one, no doubt calling a few precious numbers, because only one place delivered this good of a final product when it came to specially made albums. In his opinion.

Then again, were he _not_ in Stockholm for that gallery assignment, he'd not have this idea, probably, and he wouldn't have seen Kageyama for who knows how long. Not even mentioning the early dinner part involving two rather troublesome people. He dares not think too much into the _what if_ of that one.

So, yeah, this situation kind of had it written down that it would turn out this way, but in his defence, he really tried.

Calling Kageyama also failed on all occasions because the first time, there was no signal, the second time, there was no answer and the third time, the phone was off.

He had to laugh at the third attempt, really, and hope Kageyama won't be all that disappointed with him when he _finally gets through to him_.

He briefly wondered if he was mad at him, but had to stop because there was no way.

_Or was there?_

He was perfectly fine in spirits and mood when they parted back in Stockholm. Neither did anything they would regret later. The messages and calls were normal.

But...

...damn, could it be that he didn't imagine Kageyama wanting to tell him something back then? Now that he thinks back on it, he _was_ kind of jumpy when he got out of that shower, no longer in danger of turning into a block of ice or having his fingers amputated. Next time, Tsukishima _will_ pay attention to his shoes when he suggests a walk in the freezing cold that is the winter weather of Stockholm.

No, he's being ridiculous. That wouldn't be a reason. Valid in Kageyama's point of view at least. He's not the one to beat around the bush when something troubles him. Not even if he tried. His honest nature gets the better of his every time.

Now that he thinks about it even more carefully, standing in the corridor, having yet to unlock the door, there were a few times where things got close. Maybe even too close.

That time when he asked him to show him how he paints was the first time and most likely the most dangerous one. Because, frankly, they knew each other; what, a few days? Then he got kidnapped by Tsukishima's associates and how  _that didn't end up in an utter disaster_ , Tsukishima doesn't know to this day. Not that he'll ever question it, either.

And although he'd rather let that Sakusa person mess with his head and steal Kageyama away than to admit it, he still has to admit that Akaashi was right. ( _Not that he will, mind you._ )

Meeting him in St. Peter's Basilica that day could have been written off on one of many chance meetings and forgotten along the way. (Even with Akaashi getting that sketch. Sly bastard.)

Meeting him at the concert later could have been his own stupidity. Curiosity. Maybe even a desire to get in Akaashi's way even if he didn't plan on doing anything about it.

Akaashi pretty much nailed the thing on the head the second time they crossed paths. ( _He'll never admit it to him out loud. Ever._ )

Tsukishima wasn't one to believe in stupid stuff like love at first sight. Attraction at second glance, maybe. And that's a  _big_ maybe.

Then again, by the third time they crossed paths, he outright lied to himself about his thoughts concerning Kageyama.

For the first time ever, he allowed himself to – not think about stuff and go with the flow. Who knew what it could have developed into?

It's a thing he'll  _never know now_ , seeing how the next meeting went. As if nothing ever happened. As if they hadn't kidnapped him and were merely having a nice dinner with close friends. Hell, even Akaashi wasn't himself after that one for a short period of time. And that tells you something.

As to what was he thinking when he outright told Bokuto to scram out of the house for a whole weekend, well...that's another one of those... _I'm not even thinking things through but I'm still going with them_ moments.

_That happen quite a lot when he's with Kageyama, now that he finally thinks about it._

And for the life of him, not once did he regret it. He, who usually hisses at the thought of not thinking things through. He still did.

Even that little episode where Kageyama went and painted a Van Gogh styled scenery even Akaashi missed out on.

 

_He got so immersed into it._

 

_Tsukishima sat there, on the sofa, both listening to Vivaldi's Seasons, not disturbing anyone. It's as if he slipped into another world, where nothing but the canvas, paint and brush existed along with the picture only he saw clearly existed. The only thing that could reach him there were the happy tunes of Summer, Spring, Autumn and Winter. Tsukishima didn't really know how much time one needs to paint something like that, but even he could tell that Kageyama worked with ease. In time with the music, almost. Then, when he looked closely, he did. The brush followed the same speed as the music went on, alternating where the violin had._

_And yet, his style remained his own._

_Quick, decisive working of the wrist when applying the paint to the canvas._

_He knew the paint, how it would behave when he worked it one layer on top of the other. Using the brush in ways Tsukishima wasn't sure they were allowed to; to turn the brush to the wooden tip and paint with that end, too, manoeuvring it as he saw fit as if he were born with it and it wasn't even a simple tool in his hands but a part of him. The picture just seeped out of the tip of the brush as if he just willed it there, without having to actually do anything, but he still did._

 

_But the intensity._

 

_Tsukishima had the urge to simply dive into the painting head on, see what else was there. He was pretty sure he could, with the way the water he had created from a mix of blue's and a bit of white's seemed to flow. Have a depth that only looked ankle deep but held so much more. And the whole thing wasn't even in the realism style. It was his impression. What he saw when he looked or, in this case, imagined._

_Before he knew it, he had his phone in his hands and the camera mode was on. There was no sound, no flash, just him clicking away without even thinking._

 

_Kageyama never noticed._

 

_He was submerged into a world where Tsukishima could reach him quite easily, but he didn't want to destroy the moment._

 

The door and the keys are briefly forgotten as he sits on his travel bag, phone in his hand and one click away from opening the still unedited album he wasn't even supposed to have. It became his guilty little secret he never so much as glanced at after he created it. It felt like he stole it. The moment. Him.

He never takes people's pictures without asking them first. He even went and showed the person holding the umbrella the photo to ask if it was okay to use it. He got their consent – they loved it.

He didn't.

He was good at capturing the right moment.

He didn't know why it constantly seemed wrong. Technically, he captures a lot of people when taking pictures of cities – be it a the crack of dawn or deep into the night. Why did that umbrella moment feel stolen is beyond him.

Even this one.

This one weighted even heavier on him.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that he himself usually shuns any photos taken of him? He never did like the attention of the camera. He preferred to be on the other side of the lens. Clicking away at just the right moment. He has a knack for that. He's been told that countless times.

People and agencies begged him to do a photo-shooting of models every now and then.

He just couldn't do that. (Even the person under the umbrella wasn't exactly seen, obscured by it enough so one couldn't make out their face.)

And yet, apparently, he had no problems taking Kageyama's picture. Not once. This whole album, the one on the rooftop, even wishing he had a few more. Which, by all accounts, really shouldn't be all that much of a problem.

And then it clicks.

Why he didn't like photo-shooting sessions with models. He didn't like them striking a pose. Have their make-up perfect. Hair styled into the perfection that was actually a whole lot of gel, hair-spray and whatnot, cementing every strand into it's place. Their expressions locked up deep inside from being directly exposed to the camera. Because a lot of people never truly agreed to have their picture taken. Those who were open enough always had _the perfect picture_. The rest preferred to hide themselves behind masks.

False expressions, hidden faces.

You don't experience a flower suddenly closing up on you the moment you pull out your camera. The sun doesn't change its mind and sinks back under the horizon either. Clouds don't scatter because they're uncomfortable with camera lenses. The city doesn't shirk in its self. People tend to do all of that.

The umbrella person didn't know they were about to be photographed. That picture would have never looked the way it did were it staged.

 

_Wow._

 

_Talk about issues._

 

_Or was is photographer snobbery? Perfectionism? Bullshitting?_

 

He opens the one picture he took after asking him. The one he showed Yamaguchi first.

Exactly what he meant when he got into a semi-philosophical half-existential crisis not two minutes ago. There isn't even a hint of him in this one. A perfect camouflage. No wonder people avoided him. He certainly looked like he could kill you. He probably could, somewhere deep down, but he's not there yet. Which is a wonder, really, considering whom he works with.

He could wonder about the ethics and morals of his newest discovery and what to do with it inside his own four walls. It's getting late and cold and quite frankly, sitting on a travel bag, staring at your phone is not a recommended thing to do when your boyfriend's birthday is about to end and you have yet to get to him. Or in general. Unless you locked yourself out. Then it's a perfect thing to do.

_Damn it._

He needs a good old fashioned minimum eight hour rest.

 

Because _he's pretty sure he locked the door twice. Not once._

Maybe Akiteru decided to drop by. Wouldn't be the first time. But Akiteru locks the door twice, too. Unless he was in a hurry? He didn't come by to hang those stupid Christmas decorations again, did he? He better not. He knows damn well the only thing he can see in his own place are those lights because why not they're kinda neat and maybe a small three, but that's it. None of that jolly fat man smiling at him from every corner available and mind you, this place had a lot of corners. Because of the shelves. Candy canes hanging from his ceiling. Or what was that three years ago, he put glitter in a plastic sphere and then it fell of the string and shattered?

_There is still glitter to be found to this day._

_Some of it even got stuck on his film rolls._

_The horror._

 

Upon entering the place, there are no creepy smiles, glitter bombs or any of the colourful sticky sticks to be seen. Anywhere.

Just a few decently coloured lights hanging from the ceiling in neat ribbons, some framing a shelf here and there and there's a small tree in one corner. Well, _Akiteru's_ idea of a small tree. It looks – _really great._

 _Oh, thank God_ , Tsukishima thinks, as he lets the door fall closed and drops the bag in its corner in the entry. He'll deal with it at some decent hour.

He takes of his gloves, scarf, beanie and coat before kicking off his shoes and letting them dry under the radiator.

 

_Noticing there's a pair of unidentified shoes and winter wear he somehow did not see moments ago._

 

Great, now he's seeing things.

 

But better check the bedroom first.

 

Upon reaching the bedroom, he has to check the date, twice, because he's pretty sure, despite the chronic lack of decent rest, that's today's (still) Kageyama's birthday.

Not his.

Though, he won't complain.

 

Not with this pretty picture of Kageyama asleep on his bed.

In that pose he knows all too well.

It's the  _I'll-just-rest-my-eyes-for-a-second_ but ends up in  _whoops-I-fell-asleep_ without a care in the world. The date and time stamp of the plane tickets next to him explain  _some_ things, if not as to why  _exactly_ was he here. Now. On his birthday.

 

But like he said.

_He's not going to complain._

_(He's been out of the country for a long time, maybe they developed a new tradition or the other.)_

 

_And there's another picture in his phone._

 

_This is becoming a habit._

 

 

To: Akaashi

_I win this one._

From: Akaashi

_Congratulations._

 

_(He'll make sure betting with Akaashi on whose key he'll use first won't become a habit.)_

 

_(Oh, who cares, he won.)_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we had a town festival where some 30,000 people showed up. Had to travel 256 km to help out. Yay.


	31. Curiosity

Tsukishima Akiteru, over the years, developed a pretty bad habit. The one where he barges in without knocking. Which isn't entirely his fault, per say, because every time it does happen, he's got a pretty good excuse. Being late is one of those.

Other times, he doesn't have an excuse.

Barging into your younger brother's place without warning one morning is one of those things you just don't do. Regardless of the excuse. Unless you _want_ to get killed.

But this is Tsukishima Akiteru. Lady Luck favours him. Here and there.

So when he barged into his brother's apartment that morning, no one was there. Both he and Kageyama went out early to check out what was going on with Kageyama's place. He hasn't been there since his second year in college or so. (True, there were people checking in on it here and there, courtesy of his co-workers, but still.)

That, however, didn't change the fact that Akiteru was screeching on the inside when he realised he almost walked in on two people. Or maybe not. Still, it would have been embarrassing. Not to mention he'd most probably wreck his relationship with Kei. That kid was ridiculously private in some aspects of his life. Most of them, really, since he allowed Akiteru very little...uh... _insight_ on what was going on in his life outside what he's allowed to know.

Not that Akiteru would pry (too much) but something must have happened for Kei to call him back then and spill all his secrets. (Not really, but it sue felt that way.) And then he gets the news of his little brother liking someone and he even expressed having nothing against Akiteru and him meeting sometime. Oh, the humanity.

 _So maybe him barging in that morning wasn't that accidental_ , but it was still embarrassing once he walked past that door into an empty apartment and realisation of his actions set in like a slap to the face.

 

 _What was he thinking?_ (Nothing, apparently.)

Kei said they would meet. (Kei said he had nothing against them meeting, but it's close enough for Akiteru.)

Did he really want to get shut out again that badly? (Seems like he did.)

 

Then again, who could blame him for being _a little_ impatient? It's been _years_ since Kei actually spoke to him on that level. Akiteru was dying to see who or what made his brother happy. (Despite Kei playing it cool. Brother's intuition or something. He couldn't hide.) It was eating him up alive. It became even worse when Kei _called_ and said he had a guest over.

 

_Tsukishima Kei. He never had guests over._

 

So, yes, pardon his impatience but he was ready to blow up.

 

His phone goes off right in the middle of his inner ranting to justify himself and his actions and he nearly jumps.

“Yes?”

“ _Akiteru?_ ” He hears Kei on the other side.

“Yes.”

Well this is kinda awkward.

“ _...is this a bad time?_ ”

“No, no, not at all. Uh, you just caught me on my break. What can I do for you, Kei?” Ah, there we go. Act normal. You can do this. Not like he's standing just outside the door.

“ _Are you free tomorrow evening?_ ”

“Of course.” He has no idea if he's free or not. To hell with everything, he'll be free because Kei.

“ _Great. Uhm_ ”, holy cow is that hesitation he hears? “I _was wondering if you'd be up for meeting up with me and Kageyama then?_ ”

Akiteru can hear the angels sing somewhere in the background.

“ _Akiteru?_ ”

“What? O, yes. Yes. I'd love to meet up with you two.”

And what an _understatement that is_.

“What are you up to now?”

“ _I helped Kageyama with his bag to get settled in his place. He hasn't been there for a long time so we went to inspect it first. It's in top condition, so he stayed there to see what he needs for his work in the Rijksmuseum. He starts on the 14_ _th_ _._ ”

“ _Do you have time for lunch?_ ”

Wow, it must be the Christmas miracle because that's twice the usual invites he gets a year from him. Okay, so not that rare, but rare still.

“Yeah.” Not like he even went to work today seeing he has the few days off before overtime bites his boss in the behind.

“ _Where are you right now?_ ”

“Near your place?” Make that right in the middle of his living room with that printer giving him the evil eye, or would if it had any, but yeah. It's still a lie.

“ _Want to meet at the usual place? I can be there in twenty._ ”

Must be the New Years wonder earlier this year. Kei won't even know he was there.

He's all for it.

“Sure. See you then.”

“See you.”

Tsukishima the younger sighs a bit as the phone call ends. Akiteru sounded like he went and locked himself into the supply closet. Again. He should really either be more careful or ask for the supply closet keys.

Either way, they had lunch in twenty, so Kei might hurry.

 

Back in Kei's apartment, Akiteru merely stared at his phone.

So let's summarise.

 

First, he didn't walk in on anybody. Second, he successfully barged into his younger sibling's place without having to suffer dire consequences. Granted, he still had to achieve his goal. But!

Kei phoned and asked him to meet them for dinner. Then Kei asked him to meet him for lunch.

 

_Something's bound to go straight to hell after this. He just knows. He can feel it._

 

But he's not going to care nor wait for it right in the middle of Kei's living room.

Heck, his brother wanted to spend some time with him. For all he does care, hell an open up right now and destroy half the globe.

He has a lunch to attend to.

 

_Also, that printer gives him the creeps._

 


	32. A brother's intuition

“ _Calm down, Akiteru, you're going to blow this thing before it even starts._ ” Yamaguchi says over Skype, also on the verge of keeling over from sheer happiness.

The mess in Akiteru's bedroom is rather spectacular. He must have dragged every single piece of clothing he possess. Kei called him that morning to tell him where they'll meet. Some casual cafe where they all can talk because dinners are way too formal. Akiteru didn't mind. Not like he had an outfit planned beforehand. Which was seriously getting ridiculous. He wasn't meeting his girlfriend's parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, for heaven's sake.

“I'm trying!” Akiteru squeals, trying to adjust his tie, but his hands shook too much.

“Why am I so nervous?” He mutters as he finally gets the knot right. Too bad the whole thing looks like a cow had been chewing on it. And then stomped it to the ground for good measure.

“ _Because it's Kei._ ” Yamaguchi offers the obvious answer. “ _And that's why you need to calm down._ ”

“You're not calm either!”

“ _Hey, I'm not the one meeting my brother's boyfriend._ ” Yamaguchi grins. “ _Have you seen him?_ ”

“No?” The nervous wreck of a man says as he sighs, removing the tie to get another one.

“ _Well, he's a hottie_.”

“Of course he is.” Akiteru says as he gives up on the idea of ironing it lest he burns down his apartment building because he forgot to turn it off. But he really liked that tie.

“I mean, what else would he be if he's with Kei?”

Now where did he put that tie again? He could swear he saw it just now.

“ _What's that supposed to mean?_ ” Yamaguchi asks, way too amused by the show. Not once did he curse himself for not filming the scene, it was _that_ ridiculous.

“Don't know if you ever noticed, but Kei has some hard to meet standards. Not that there's anything wrong with that.” Of course not. Kei might not be the world's most agreeable person, but at least that's one less worry for Akiteru in terms of him meeting someone. There's no way Kei would ever agree to anything if he didn't think it was what he wanted. Or worth his time. Yep, those hard to meet standards of his were a great thing.

“ _You're right on that one._ ” From Yamaguchi's point of view, it's not so much that Kei made those standards by choice, it's more that those came to be as they grew up. It just went with his character. Yamaguchi was proud of him. But he was dying to know more. Despite them sitting in that coffee shop for a long time by their usual standards, Kei never revealed much details – actually, scratch that – he didn't reveal much of anything at all.

But with Kei being...well, _Kei_ , _his beloved Tsukki_ , telling Yamaguchi and _even Akiteru_ that he met someone was a huge deal. Especially since he all but vanished from the face of the earth for quite a long time. Sure, he left a message here and there, but Yamaguchi knew him well enough to know something was wrong. It was as if he was somehow disappointed with the world and shut himself in. That wasn't that much of a big deal before, when they were still in the same area – Yamaguchi knew how to bring him out of that thought slump – but this time around, he was somewhere half way across the globe and – alone.

There was a bubble of something close to a mother's pride when that thought finally settled in.

Sure, it took a long time, but Tsukki, his stubborn, salty, the least agreeable person he knows, his precious childhood friend, managed to pull himself out of that slump and even meet someone.

Whom he obviously thought well enough to announce his existence to his brother and best friend.

_Yamaguchi could cry._

 

“...I don't really care, though, as long as Kei is happy, I'm at least four times as happy.” Akiteru finishes his little half speech of observation or whatever it was, he wasn't really listening, getting caught up in his own thoughts.

“ _So am I._ ” Yep, nod your head in agreement and hope for the best. But, onto a more relevant topic.

“ _Please get them to tell you how they met, Tsukki wasn't all that specific last time._ ”

“I'm not going there to interrogate them.”

“ _You're meeting his boyfriend over dinner, of course you're going there to interrogate them!_ ” Yamaguchi nearly shouts, laughing. “ _Why else would you be there?_ ”

“To meet the guy?”

“ _And what, you won't say a word?_ ”

“Of course I will.”

“ _Great. Now get out there and get me some details._ ”

“Hold your horses, I've got time. Oh, yeah, we agreed to something with little less resemblance of meeting one's parents.”

“ _And you tell me that now? That's even better._ ”

“Why is he not talking to you about this?”

“ _Probably because he knows I'd be in a worse shape than you right now._ ”

The mess in the room speaks loud and clear.

“Can't say you're not right about that.” Akiteru rubs the back of his head, sheepishly.

“ _Come on. You'll be fine. You can do this._ ”

Yeah. He can do this.

 

_He can't do this._

 

He sits at the table in a pleasant little café, not too loud but not too quiet either, in fact perfect for this kind of thing. He's forgotten his phone, he doesn't know what the guy looks like, he can't even remember the name even though Kei mentioned it more times than he actually needed. He's too early in but too late to return to get his stupid phone that he left on the table right next to the door on his way out.

He checks his jacket.

His wallet and keys are there.

_At least he's got that in his favour._

His stomach turned into a pointy heavy rock the moment he stepped out the door. He can't remember the last time he was this nervous. There's no reason for him to be nervous. At all. It's just Kei. And the person he likes. Meaning, if Akiteru makes a fool of himself, that's probably the end of this neat little brotherly relationship he's been waiting for a good deal of his life to have with Kei.

_But no pressure._

 

“ _I can't do this._ ” He mutters, hiding his face into his hands, exhaling, but the knot of chains representing his stomach doesn't loosen up one bit.

It's ridiculous.

He should pull himself together and not behave like...he can't even think of what.

“Are you alright?” He hears someone ask, but for the life of him he can't muster the strength to look up.

“No.” Or find it in his right mind not to fall apart right in front of a stranger because of his nerves decided to take a hike.

“I'm too nervous to breathe.” He says because why not spill his sorrows to a complete stranger? There must be a study on the benefits of _that_ one.

“Meeting someone?” Luckily, the stranger seems to be understanding and not running for the hills away from him.

“Yeah.” He mutters, rubbing his temple. “Meeting my brother and his newest sweetheart and I'm about to faint because I don't want to make a fool of myself but I'm doing exactly the thing I'm trying to avoid.”

“You must care a lot about his opinion.”

“You don't know the half of it.” He laughs, and that helps him calm down a bit. Enough to remove his face from his hands, any way.

He looks up to find pair of  _really nice blue eyes_ and the word  _water surfaces_ comes to mind but he shakes that one off because wow he must be a real wreck to recall his brothers shelf labels when face to face with a rather handsome young man offering him a glass of water.

“I'm meeting someone, too.” He says, offering a small nervous smile and placing the glass down on the table.

“If you don't mind,” he says, “you don't look too well.”

“Thanks.” Akiteru says, almost gulping it down all the way. “Pardon my manners, please, sit down if you'd like.”

“Thank you.”

Exchanging stupid little courtesies and general opinions with someone can be helpful. Even more so when the one you're talking to is so polite and understanding and more or less going through the same thing as you are, but somehow is much better at keeping themselves together. The first round of non-alcoholic drinks with the purpose to calm his nerves as they both wait for the people they are waiting for to show up is already on the table, mostly untouched because they clicked and the conversation just sort of picked itself up. Random remarks turned into a light conversation about a wide range of themes and even some lame but still funny jokes slip into the conversation and the need to run away is no longer there in Akiteru.

“Usually, I'm not this nervous about meeting new people. I just seem to care about this meeting more than I'm aware of.” Akiteru says, a whole lot more relaxed than he had initially been, as he leans into his seat, an easy smile on his face.

“Usually, I don't interact with people this well.” His companion says, almost as an observation, as he puts down his glass of iced-coffee. “I usually manage to piss off everyone I encounter."

“No, you don't.” Akiteru laughs.

“Yes, I do. Which is funny because when people talk to me first, that doesn't tend to happen.”

“Alright, who'd you piss of at first glance?”

“A senpai of mine in college. Not the ideal start when you need him to explain a few things to you. There was also a whole list of people in high school. After a while, I just gave up on making the first step somewhere along the way.”

Akiteru takes a moment to try to put him and the prospect of him pissing someone off right off the bat. He gives it up.

“Sorry, I still can't see it.” He says, shaking his head slightly as he observes him.

“That's alright.” He smiles. He has such a pretty smile, too. Akiteru hopes the person he's to meet is at least half this...nice. Fun to be around with. Easy to talk to. Feel so relaxed around even if Akiteru has yet to introduce himself, seeing he spent almost an hour talking with him. Whoa, was that the time already? Kei should be here any moment.

Surprisingly, there is no knot.

Maybe he'll pull this one through after all.

“I'm Tsukishima Akiteru.” He finally says. Even if they never cross paths again, might as well at least exchange names.

“I know.” His companion smiles a bit wider, clearly amused.

“...huh?” He blinks, confused. He certainly did not see this one coming. At all.

 

“ _I see you two are having fun._ ” Akiteru hears Kei say from behind him, turning around to see him alone.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Kei asks, amused and Akiteru thinks he just died when the younger nods at him and sits next to the man he spent an hour talking to.

“Should you?”

“To spend another half an hour watching how you turned this nervous wreck into a human again? Absolutely.” Kei winks at him.

“Akiteru, this is Kageyama Tobio.” He finally says as Kageyama laughs.

“I-what?” The poor man can't do much except stare at them.

“Yamaguchi gave me a call.” Kei elaborates, easily, making himself comfortable next to Kageyama and Akiteru wants to call Yamaguchi back and cry with him at this beautiful scene. “Said you looked like you were about to keel over and die so I thought I might help you out a bit. Kageyama here has an unique talent of calming people down.”

“Yeah, when I don't make them hate me on the spot.” Kageyama ads.

“They're just too weak to handle you.” Kei offers, oh so lightly.

“Interesting point of view.” 

“Is it?”

“I think Makki-san mentioned something like that once or twice before.”

(Said Makki-san fought a five+ year battle with many a person in their midst to try and get his point across, but yeah.)

“Makki-san knows what he's talking about.”

“I think he'll be delighted to hear that.”

“I don't think he'll be the only one.”

 

Yeah, as much as Akiteru _would love to magically disappear and let them have their moment_ ,

“I'm sorry, who's Makki-san?” He asks, regretting it on the spot, because the moment is not quite gone but...

“I work with him.” Kageyama says, turning his attention to him.

“I think he fills the protective yet understanding and supporting elder brother type more than being a simple co-worker.” Kei ads and Akiteru is even more confused.

“I've met the family.” He elaborates. Sort of.

“Say what now?” Akiteru arches a brow, too stunned to function properly.

“The people I work with.” Kageyama again tries to explain. “But, yes, as Kei says, by now we're more family than co-workers.”

“When did you have time to do that?” Akiteru slips, but Kei doesn't seem to mind.

“We all met at a gallery.” He says and Akiteru can swear he missed a joke from the way they both stifle a laugh.

 

_Holy cow, they have a private joke going on. God is real and no one can convince Akiteru otherwise._

_AnddidhejustcallKeibyhisfirstnameohmygod-_

_Breathe._

 

He would breathe, gladly so, were not the fact that he forgot how. There is no need to lose his shit about it. Because calling Kei by his last name that is also Akiteru's would be... _eh_...and seeing how the two of them lived abroad long enough to not feel alienated when people around them casually shouted each other's given names in the same way they used the surnames back in Japan, that might not mean anything.

 _Too bad it does_ , because even a blind man would see the _very pleased_ expression on Kei's face lingering long enough for Akiteru to actually register its existence. _Also, exhibit B, Kei referred to him as Kageyama as opposed to the custom here._

_Time to implode again and scream internally._

 

Outside the café, there's a tall person leaned casually against a wall.

“ _Do you see the target?”_

“Yes. There are two others with him, though.”

“ _No matter. As longs as we can confirm they're here.”_

“Copy that.”

“ _That's it for tonight.”_

“Sure. Don't stay up too late.”

“ _What are you? My mother?”_

“Just saying.”

 

_The person adjusts the collar of his jacket as the line cuts off. Passing through half empty streets of Amsterdam in winter is a reward in its self._

 

_At least for the time being._

 


	33. Of owls and cats

“So we followed every lead.” Kuroo says.

“We did.” Bokuto confirms.

“And we checked everything at least twice.”

“We did.”

 

“ _Then how did we get so lost?_ ” Kuroo asks, pissed off at the fact that they were standing in the middle of Antwerp, Belgium, with the snow piled up on their shoulders at least a centimetre.

“Beats me.” Bokuto offers.

 

A long sigh escapes Kuroo. Their quest to get to the bottom of this newest mystery surrounding the art world seemed so promising. Akaashi forwarded every piece of intelligence he had to them and even with that, they seemed to have hit a dead end.

“Let's try this again.” Kuroo says as he leans on the wall of some building. “There's supposed to be a large scale thing that actually might not be that large scale.”

“Akaashi mentioned it could be an inside job.”

“Yes, but even that needs an outside source. Otherwise, they could just acquire everything without having to plan anything that could get into the open.”

“Say, don't you think it's strange?” Bokuto says, frowning a bit as he tires to piece everything together. They were on this for a few weeks now and still nothing. The only thing he got from all of this was that something didn't quite fit.

“What is?” Kuroo turns to him, dusting off the snow off his shoulder.

“This whole thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...I don't know what I mean, it's just that it seems kinda off.” Bokuto gestures vaguely to the wall. “Something of that scale and not one leak? No one's that good.”

“ _We_ are.”

“Yeah, but even we mess up. Think back summer.”

“ _I refuse to think back summer._ ” Kuroo all but bleaches at the mere sound of it.

“Fine, but you get what I mean. There's four of us and you have seen the extent of our work. For that plan to work, there's bound to be at least ten or so people involved. And on every one of them at least two more.”

“You're right.” You can't plan anything big without the sufficient number of people.

“Then all that's left is that the guy Akaashi mentioned is right and this plan is a ruse to cover up another plan.”

“Great, but what is that plan then?”

“I think we need to refocus here.” Kuroo muses. “What were they mentioning again? London, Paris and Amsterdam?”

“Yep.”

“Nah, that can't be right.” Kuroo waves it off.

What's the point here? Creating a diversion? Could be. It's certainly costly, but it's not like the people in this business are short on finances. So someone with more money than time to spend is most likely the target. Someone patient enough because this has been going on for a while. It's like they're playing cat and mouse with someone, but Kuroo didn't hear anyone being threatened. Maybe the target is unaware themselves? Also possible. But the time... It's been two years since they started, according to Akaashi's reliable source. Maybe a comeback of sorts? Granted, they're not exactly in the deepest tiers with the devil where they stand, more like dancing on the fine line, more on the darker side. Either way, if it were someone so heavy, chances are they would have heard something by now.

...this is so frustrating.

“Say, Tetsu.” Bokuto says, interrupting his thoughts. “Those people requesting the miniature...”

“Yes?”

“...did you hear they gave it back?”

“...what?” Kuroo blinks. Truthfully, he doesn't care what they do with the things he brings, but that just doesn't make sense.

“I know you don't speak of your clients, but is there room that they might be involved? Because I can't see them not knowing whom they were outright stealing from.”

“Unless they were using that as bait to get some other information?” Bokuto muses out loud.

Which gets Kuroo thinking. He might not be wrong with that assumption. What if the stupid miniature wasn't what they were really after? That would make sense. They probably got what they wanted and didn't need the miniature any more. Honour amongst thieves is practically sacred in these circles. One does not simply throw out a precious piece of art once they got what they needed from it.

“So what gives?” He asks out loud, no one in particular. “Were they after the miniature or something else? If something else, what? Whom, maybe?”

“Should I ask the kid?”

“Huh?”

“Kageyama. Should I ask him if they noticed something about the miniature?” Bokuto clarifies. “Beats musing about it for days.”

_Why did Kuroo have a really bad feeling about this?_

_Probably just past experiences._

Bokuto's right. If they're on the right track, maybe the miniature might provide some answers.

“It's worth a shot.” He shrugs. There wasn't much to lose. Might even save them some trouble. Then again, he wouldn't leave Antwerp just yet.

“But you ask him. I seem to be bad luck.” Kuroo mutters under his scarf, earning himself a big grin from Bokuto.

“Nah, you're not.” Bokuto assures him. From what the kid told him, his boss is a worse case when it comes to luck.

“Wait, you're calling him _now?!_ ” Kuroo squeaks as Bokuto pulls out his phone and dials the number.

“Yeah?"

“Dude, bro, Bo, it's like past midnight.”

“Isn't it like midday in Japan?” The owlish man arches a brow, tilting his head.

“He's not in Japan, he's in Amsterdam!” Kuroo nearly whines.

“He is? Sweet! I could pay a visit.”

“Bokuto, hang the damn phone!” Kuroo groans.

 

_Too late._

 

“ _Kageyama speaking._ ”

Really, Bokuto? And why is he still up does he ever sleep?? What is wrong with those two??

“Hey there, Bokuto here. I didn't wake you up, did I?” _Oh, now you're being considerate._ Hopes up Akaashi doesn't get wind of this.

“ _No, no. I was just going through some materials. What can I do for you, Bokuto-san?_ ”

“Uh, remember that miniature we picked you up with?” _Oh my good gods._

“ _The Lady in Gray? Yes. What about it?_ ”

“We heard it was returned and wondered if you or your friends or whatever they are have noticed anything about it, maybe?”

“ _In what sense?_ ”

“No clue. Hidden messages perhaps? Something of that sort?”

“ _Truthfully, we haven't looked at it in a long time. I can call Matsukawa-senpai to check it for you, if you want?_ ”

“If it's not too much trouble, it would be a big help.”

“ _No problem. I'll contact you as soon as I have news. This is your number, then?_ ”

“Yeah. Thanks, kid. Sorry for calling so late.”

“ _Don't worry about it. Have a nice evening._ ”

“You too.”

 

 _That went well_.

 

“See? No biggies. They'll check for us.” Bokuto turns to him with a beaming expression and Kuroo wishes he could just dissipate along with the snow.

“Bokuto Koutarou, did I ever tell you how utterly fascinating you are?” Kuroo drones out.

“I know!” He beams as he pulls him along and starts walking.

“Better call it a night, we're going to freeze out here.”

Yeah. That's a good idea.

 

_Well._

 

_It would be a good idea if they hadn't stumbled upon a very interesting late night alley meeting half way back warm place and not snow covered floors._

Kuroo had to physically push Bokuto against a wall so they won't be seen. Both had their ears perked up, trying to be as quiet as possible.  


 

“So everything's done?” Suspect number one asks.

“More or less.” Suspect number two says.

“And our contact?” One asks, wrapping himself tighter with his coat.

“Confirmed the target is there.” Two waves it off, not looking too happy with the prospect.

“Great. He'll be pleased to hear it. I hear it's been a long while.”

“But I don't get it. All this trouble for what?”

“Who cares, as long as we get things done. It's been two years, I'd like to see this over and done with. I have a life, you know.”

Two years? Could it be? Was the Universe that bored? Or were they extremely lucky tonight? But nothing implied it was  _their_ two years prep job they figured out not ten minutes ago.  _Not that it hurt to listen in even so. Who knew? Maybe there was something of their interest of theirs in that absolutely random conversation they almost walked into._

“What? Afraid your sweetheart might find someone else?” One teases.

“Don't even joke about it.” The other nearly hisses. “Not his fault I'm all the way here and chasing people around the place.”

“I'm sure you're going to see him soon.”

“I better. He mentioned introducing me to someone. God I hope I leave a good impression. Else it's bye bye for me.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Well good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

“But you're right, we're way too stretched out for a simple pick up job. Are all these theatrics really necessary?”

“Neither I not you make the rules.”

“True that.” One says, looking at his watch. “Shit, look at the time.”

“We should move out.” Two confirms, looking at his.

“Right. See you at the location. Have a safe flight.”

“Thanks. Greet yours from me.”

“Will do.”

“Don't get lost in Amsterdam.”

“Like hell I will.”

 

_Amsterdam. The name of one of the locations. Bingo._

 

Bokuto and Kuroo can't believe their luck. Seems like flying around Europe for the past few weeks, getting lost and almost freezing to death because standing in a random alley in Antwerp in the middle of winter seemed like a fabulous idea has finally paid off. Yeah, sure it was a long shot fired in the dark but it was _something_.  


_Akaashi and his little network will surely know what to do with that bit._

 

“ _Dude, we should really get inside.” Bokuto says as the snowing gets harder._

“ _Right behind you.” Kuroo says just after he closes his phone._

_Luckily, they weren't that far from their hotel._

 

_What a night._

 


	34. Advice

“Sakusa-senpai, may I ask something?” Kageyama begins as they're both busy with the same painting laid out of the large table, carefully repairing the cracks on the canvas that grew too big over time.

“Sure.” Sakusa says, dipping his brush into a burgundy red before applying it on the correct spot. He has a habit of doing so slowly and far more meticulous and truthfully, having Kageyama help out gave him time to deal with it just the way he wanted. Painstakingly correct. Because there shall be no traces of a restaurateur ever touching the painting other that the obvious.

“What's on your mind?”

 _A lot of things_ these days. Luckily, Sakusa knew of his ways of communication and didn't mind waiting as he figured out what to say.

“You can think out loud, too, if you wish.” Because that usually helped him and also because Sakusa loved hearing him speak.

“Could I be ace?” He asks, earning Sakusa's full attention on that.

“Oh, you are definitely on this side of the spectrum, you precious little teapot.” He says after giving him a once over.

“But I don't mind- I mean-”

“You don't mind but never actually tried it out? One night stands seem pointless and the physical aspect of it means absolutely nothing to you because you're looking for that deeper connection behind it? You rarely think, if ever, this or that individual would be neat to have sex with? In general, for that matter, between sex and no sex, you wouldn't really mind even if there was no sex?”

Kageyama takes a minute to think about it. He then nods in confirmation.

“You can only know this for yourself, of course, but yes, I'd say you pretty much fit the bill. Though I'm not sure whether you'd be gray or demi.”

“A what or a what?” Blue eyes blink at him confusedly.

“The former is rarely feeling attraction towards someone and the later is experiencing attraction but only after a strong bond has been formed.”

“...I didn't know that.”

“Not many people do if they don't look into it.”

“Guess I didn't care that much.”

“Neither did I.”

“I see.”

“You don't have to label yourself as anything if you don't want but if you do want to look into it, I can give you some guidelines.”

“Thank you.”

 

They resumed their work in comfortable silence, each focused on their own task at hand. Sakusa could see that little information exchange didn't cover everything since Kageyama still looked thoughtful. He didn't pry, though, he'll talk if he needs to.

“Yeah, that might be it.” He says, arching a brow.

“But is it that obvious?” He asks, looking really unsure all of a sudden.

“Kind of.” Given what Sakusa had the privilege to witness during college. “Why?”

“It's just...I...well, we...uhm...”

To think that someone could be so adorable while blushing. Sakusa really needs to focus on his work. He's being unfair here.

“Well, uh, there was this thing New Year's? And I kind of don't know who pulled back first? I guess I did, but I'm not so sure now...”

_Oh, dear..._

“I suggest you talk about it, first. Seems like there are some things in the unclear.” Sakusa offers, idly wondering if what he said back then in November could have turned a gear or two in Tsukishima's head. _Whoops._

 _Nothing that can't be resolved, though_ , he thinks, but he might have planted some ideas.

So much for not meddling.

His apologies, Akaashi-san, but this is just too fun.

Also, there might be a thing of two that Kageyama still doesn't know himself.

But to think Tsukishima might have been the one who pulled back...well... Kudos to Tsukishima. Sakusa might have jumped to conclusions there. Might have.

Time for them to have a nice little chat.

“Say, Tobio”, he asks, “might I have your phone for a minute?”

“Sure thing.” Kageyama says, pulling it from his pocket before he hands it over and resumes his business.

“Much obliged.” Sakusa says, taking it and scrolling down the phone list. “You won't mind if I go out for a bit?”

“No, I'll just finish up here first.” He says, concentrating on the crack, careful not to damage the paint more as he tips it with a toothpick to inspect how deep it goes.

“Sakusa-senpai.” He lifts his gaze to meet his eyes. “I think this whole piece is going to have to go.”

“Which part?” Sakusa asks as he returns his phone.

“This one.” He points out, holding the piece of dry paint up. “It's just going to peel off over time. It doesn't even stick to the canvas any more.”

“You're definitely right there.” The older man muses, arching a brow at the bit. Kageyama's right, it's definitely something to deal with sooner than later.

“Suggestions?”

“I'd say we remove it, see how far it goes off. I was thinking of maybe sticking it back in and dealing with the crack, but the whole section looks loose.”

“How about removing it in one piece instead of crumbling it and sticking it back?”

“...could you manage that?”

“I'd need an extra pair of hands, but I don't see a reason why it shouldn't work.” He says, pointing at the paint. “It's not too dry to try it.”

“Let's get to it, then.” Sakusa says, getting two pairs of gloves ready.

They manage to peel of a large chunk of paint and move it aside to inspect the fabric of the canvas. It's in a need of a little patching up, but nothing too serious. It takes them half an hour to get it ready.

“Glue or thread and needle?” Sakusa asks, holding up both.

“I'll stitch it.” Kageyama says, taking the thread and needle, pulling the magnifying lens closer to the spot on the painting. “I don't trust glue in these kind of situations. Especially if I need to melt a bit of paint.”

“Right you are.” Sakusa smiles as he starts his stitching carefully. “I'll leave it to you then. Be right back.”

“See you later.” Kageyama mutters, eyes fixed on the tiny holes and focusing on not pulling them apart too much.

Sakusa could spend hours looking at him work. He really could. But not right now.

Right now, he has some other business to attend to.

 

* * *

 

 

As much fun and aggravation taking pictures of the winter wonderland can be, Tsukishima is always grateful to get out of the cold here and there. Granted, the temperatures are much more merciful here than they are all the way up in Stockholm, but not that much, given the winds.

So when he gets a message from Kageyama, he's more than happy to move out of the biting frost and chill air.

Walking the few streets down until he reaches the _Rijksmuseum_ pass in a flash as his focus is more on the phone and his brother on the other side of the connection.

“Uh, I'm not sure, why?” He asks.

“ _Because my editor is a witch or something and found out that' he's here._ ” He almost snorts at Akiteru's tone of voice. “ _So she keeps pestering me to see if he'd be willing to give an interview._ ”

“I can ask him if you want but I can't guarantee anything. He's not exactly comfortable with those things.”

“ _Even better. As long as the pestering stops._ ”

“You sure a rejection from him will accomplish that?”

“ _She may have supernatural powers when it comes to discovering things, but she's at least human. Somewhere._ ” Kei actually laughs here.

“Alright.” He says as the Rijksmuseum finally appears in view. “I'll ask for you.”

“ _Thanks, Kei, you're a life-saver._ ”

“No problem. Talk to you later.”

“ _Bye._ ”

 

While the art world thinks it's Oikawa Tooru that keeps him hidden, it's more accurate to say that he helps him avoid all the attention. Kageyama Tobio avoided papers and magazines like the plague. He never saw the point of doing an interview just for the sake of it and if anyone wanted to know something concerning him, they could always just ask him. Trying to explain what interviews were actually for went right over his head but Kei imagined his reluctance and aversion towards it had much to do with his early life, so he didn't push.

It was his decision, in the end.

Though, Kei can't say he doesn't feel approximately the same when it comes to things like that. He never gave one himself while he was all the rage in photography. A few magazines did cover his latest work and questioned a comeback, but they mostly talked to the editors he worked with.

He didn't work on this to explain a reporter as to why and what.

...maybe he would, one day, but that was not very likely to happen.

If to anyone, he might explain Akiteru and Kageyama. But he had a strong feeling they would understand even without saying a word.

He found himself standing at a distance from his meeting place, but he couldn't help it. Not with the view of the _Rijksmuseum_ like this.

From what Kageyama told him, the _Rijksmuseum_ was actually founded in The Hague, 31 st of May, 1800, but then moved to Amsterdam in 1808 to the _Royal Palace_ and then the _Trippenhuis_. After a few moves between a few places and surviving the turmoil's of history, it finally found a place to stay permanent on the 13 th of July, 1885.

That being the project of a man named Pierre Cyupers, who won a design contest in 1876. The building he proposed was a combination of Renaissance and Gothic elements, with the Gothic elements prevailing, despite the English Renaissance quoin's (masonry blocks at the corner of a wall) and chateauesque roofs. It's sometimes considered Neo-Gothic, but Tsukishima Kei will never get between a discussion when it comes to the style of that particular building.

He wasn't one to marvel at architecture outside his field of work and even then, there were people who dealt with the descriptions.

Is what he likes to think, but catching himself repeat the brief history of the place and even the person that built it, he might reconsider that one. Or at least the buildings Kageyama gives him a small lecture about.

Which is ridiculous, seeing how he dreaded listening to it whenever Akaashi mentioned it.

What was it called?

Oh, yes.

Double standards.

How they made life easier sometimes. And not.

 

But whatever his personal preferences, he couldn't deny the magnificent sight of a snow covered _Rijksmuseum,_ no matter what the style was called. Even if there were a few places called the same, people usually thought of this one.

He takes a few snapshots, each with a different focus – the building itself and then a few details dusted with snow. He'll have to get his other camera, too, to get some really close up shots of some details while the weather allowed a few interesting ice forms to stick.

He almost kicks himself when he notes that he just wasted a good twenty minutes taking shots of a building he initially didn't care about. Would you look at that.

Entering the place, he quickly sought out the meeting place, hoping he didn't waste Kageyama's lunch break with his fascination earlier.

The one he sees upon reaching the meeting place, however, is not Kageyama and he raises a brow in question.

Sakusa offers a small apologetic smile as he moves from  _The Love Letter_ he just recently restored. Inspecting it once more under the natural light to see if he had overdone it anywhere.

“My apologies for this little misunderstanding.” Sakusa begins, turning to him. “Tobio wasn't the one to call you here, I was.”

“Where is he?” Tsukishima asks.

“In the studio, stitching up a patch. I don't want to disturb him while he works.” The other says, leaning against the wall. “We had an interesting conversation earlier and I can't help but wonder about something.”

“Which is?”

They knew each other for some two months now, give or take. Tsukishima's usually quick to piece a person together, but Sakusa is at least as puzzling as Kageyama is. He doesn't know why, though. He can't say he's unpleasant – quite the opposite, in fact – but he's...well,  _he's almost restrained_ . With Akaashi, he's as straightforward as Kageyama is with basically everyone who crosses his path, but Tsukishima can't miss the way he holds back when they're in the same room. If he called him out here without Kageyama's knowledge, of what Tsukishima is now sure of he did, then maybe it's time the gloves came off.

In Sakusa's case, quite literally so since he does pull off the latex from his hands.

The silence stretches out a bit, nothing uncomfortable as the two of them practically analyse each other. Though Tsukishima can't shake off the feeling this might be just a game for Sakusa. In his case, at least, because ever since the gallery thing back in Stockholm and all what he learnt back then about him and Kageyama stuck.

Tsukishima had nothing against answering a few questions, having learnt quite some time ago that Kageyama's circle of people is...rather unique. That became a fact that  _his_ circle of people would gap at knowing he never spoke about anything even remotely related to him or answer to anyone.

Truthfully, he agreed to that mainly because their reactions were beyond amusing and he never told them anything in the end. He could play with people, too, just rarely did so.

“I guess you're used to him by now.” Sakusa says, tilting his head, as if he got the information he sought after from the five minutes they were standing there. He could have and he could have not, he's really difficult to understand. Kageyama's infinitely better at reading him.

“I like to think that, yes.” He says.

Okay, so there was one thing he could tell right off the bat and that was the fact that he'd do anything to keep a smile on Kageyama's face. It was amusing to see him practically tweet around Kageyama in the few occasions they met up or he had seen them around town, but the moment he turned his back, his mood could turn a 180 in mere seconds. Something was bothering him and it seemed he decided to come out with it.

“I also guess you're still here, agreeing to this little scheme of mine, because you're a bit curious about my mindset yourself.”

“Correct.”

“May I speak freely, then?” Sakusa looks straight into his eyes and Tsukishima feels the challenge in the undertones.

And here Tsukishima takes a few to think about it because  _speaking freely_ , in Sakusa's case, is the same as Kageyama's, albeit with tendencies to  _make people bleed_ .  _On purpose, at that_ .

(Listening to Akaashi flat out rant about him for half an hour was as informative as it was amusing and Tsukishima is so glad he asked.)

“By all means.” Tsukishima offers a polite smile of his own. (Dealing with Kageyama makes dealing with other people a breeze, if he has to be totally honest there. Definitely a _who lives, shall tell_ kind of thing. _Kuroo_ , for one, could write a few books, essays and dissertations on that one, no doubt.)

“I like you.” Sakusa states, dropping quite a few walls with that, an easier air around him. “I like how you treat him and I like how he likes you back. Knowing him, I had my doubts about you when I heard the good news."

After the kidnapping incident and him waking up, Tsukishima, along with a few others, also had their doubts about  _a lot of things_ .

“He's...peculiar like that.” Tsukishima says, knowing full well what he aimed at, albeit form different experiences.

“Indeed he is.” Sakusa agrees. “You should have seen him in college. I think I have a few remarks written down somewhere.” Actually, he kept a whole record of those when they concerned Kageyama back then, all neatly organised into a notebook, which still brought him to tears when he read them. They were all hilarious once you know the person.

“ _Not once did I want to bash my own head against a wall._ ”

“ _I know the feeling._ ”

They both sighed, briefly wondering just who was the one who had to look out for whom. In all of the situations he's been through, Kageyama proved time and time again to know what he was doing. Sort off.  _Well, they really hoped he did_ .

“Yes, he does, doesn't he?” Sakusa muses, sitting in the window, rubbing his temple as Tsukishima finished the story of how Bokuto and Kuroo witnessed him kick the lights out of a random guys at the almost unveiling of the Rembrandt in Italy, omitting the few minor details Sakusa didn't need to know that led to that specific event.

“He looks tough, is a sweetheart but can still kick your ass if need be.”

Yeah, that was a contradiction within a contradiction. Truly Kageyama Tobio.

_Never did Tsukishima Kei imagine that one day he'd be sitting with one of his boyfriend's college colleagues who are also a part of his protection squad and talk about him with them._

It's just too absurd to even think about it, despite that happening.

“People tend not to get that.”

_Preach._

“ _I've seen it happen. Countless times._ ”

 

This time, Tsukishima turns to him, not quite sure if he imagined it.

 

“He gets so invested into things, be it a painting or the story behind it. People, too.” Sakusa smiles fondly at a memory. “He just couldn't let it be. It was against his nature, no matter how hard he tried to accommodate to others. Ridiculous.”

“You sound like you've been burnt.” Tsukishima slips before he's even aware of it. Sakusa shifts his gaze to him, as if he just revealed something he missed.

“Yep.” He says, smirking. “He's good at that. Fixing things that are cracked or broken. People, too. Although, he's way too open for a task rather delicate like people are. He's often misunderstood.”

“If there was a fire within, he'd reignite it.” Sakusa says, tapping the spot on Tsukishima jacket where the heart lies deep beneath. “If not, he'd burn you to ashes.”

“I've seen it happen. He got in trouble with people because he expected nothing less from them than being the best they could be. Not that he asked for the impossible, but it's just that openness of his that required people to admit a few things and accept a few flaws that didn't sit right. I should know. I was one of those before I realised he was right about me.”

 

“ _Sakusa-senpai, this is brilliant.” Kageyama says, eyes wide in amazement, bit then his mood dims a bit._

“ _Why is everything else so average?”_

 

“He can be a nightmare if you're not prepared to give it your all.” Sakusa says and Tsukishima has a feeling he just concluded something from a long time ago and it was funny to see him make that face.

“And you told me this, why?” Tsukishima asks.

 

“He's holding back, because of you.” Sakusa says, surprising him with that, tone clearly stating he wasn't happy about it.

“I'm sure you've caught a glimpse of what I have told you. No one disappears like that only to come back to stay in the margins. You're hesitating and that will only end up badly.”

He stands up, glancing at the clock on his phone.

“I don't want to see him hurt.”

 

He walks away, leaving Tsukishima in the Vermeer section to his thoughts.

 

_Tsukishima finally got why Akaashi got a headache the moment he brought him up._

He'll have to think of a way to say thanks to Hanamaki-san. If only because he had the decency to kick you right in the face if he didn't like you.

Not that Sakusa here disliked him.

Tsukishima highly doubted he'd give anyone else a heads up like this.

 

_Really, the people Kageyama has around him._

 


	35. Looking into things

In all of his life, of all of his experience, Akaashi never thought he'd see the day Bokuto and Kuroo got lost while tracking something to be a great thing. He used Sakusa's logs, wonderfully detailed and to the point, and tired to piece it together with what those two overheard that evening. Now that he actually had the time to invest into this whole matter, seeing how the workload lessened significantly.

Two years is a lot of time and not really.

What really mattered here now is the little detail Bokuto and Kuroo picked up from the other two.

 

_Target is confirmed to be in Amsterdam._

_Target._

 

Akaashi mused as he stared at the map he constructed on his desk and a part of the wall.

It could be a person. It could be a specific work. Works are easier to track down, be it marked and labelled the right way or under the radar. People...not so easy. It's still too early to draw some conclusions from just that. Logic would say a work of art, but...maybe the person changed their mind after learning of something along the way? Or better yet, made adjustments to the original plan?

From what he had on his desk, everything pointed out that the little mystery was a well thought out plan. Kuroo couldn't tell him much about who requested the miniature seeing it was a passed down job.

Akaashi had to suppress a laugh as he thought of what Bokuto had told him. Though, as ridiculous as it may be, maybe he was onto something there. Bokuto had keen skills and a sharp sense, too bad he only ever used it as much.

But what kind of-

_Oh, heavens and Pablo Picasso._

 

_It couldn't be_ , Akaashi thinks as he almost falls out of his chair he leaned into only to lean back to the front, staring down the papers and the little map he made.

Could they have already found what they were looking for? But whom or what were they after?

Let's see, two years.

Two years ago, a few notable names went into private hands, and others went to a few galleries and museums. The private hands are definitely worth looking into, just in case. But what's the point of this little security alarm experiment if it's a matter of those paintings going private? No, must be the other case. From private to public.

Evidence could be easily destroyed, maybe someone was after their heirloom without wanting to draw immediate attention to themselves? Akaashi certainly knew of a few cases where it happened, he was the mediator on one of those. Along with Tsukishima-

_...two years ago is also when Tsukishima Kei disappeared form the face of the earth , figuratively speaking, in the terms of his job._

 

He had joined them not long after, but officially, it's been two years since he made his face public with his own thing. It could all be a stupid coincidence, much like the case with Kageyama and the miniature, but Akaashi won't be so quick to dismiss even this-

_Target confirmed in Amsterdam._

Only just recently...

_...Kageyama arrived relatively recently there._

 

But two years? How did that fit in? Maybe something Akaashi isn't aware about?

_But seriously, if Kageyama is the target this time, he'd probably die laughing._

Akaashi frowns slight.

_But what if?_

Frankly, Kageyama's way more likely to be a target than Tsukishima given his parent's occupation, his boss and his own skills, if this all is strictly tied to their world.

Okay, never mind that for now, who or what else- but is the assumed two year preparation period when this all started or should Akaashi focus on something more recent than that?

If it's more recent, then more people and events fall into account.

Then it could be either of them, including Sakusa.

...Sakusa...

 

Would he – no, of course not, not if he has no motive – wait a second – what or who would make Sakusa pay attention to things outside the country of his current work place? He said it so himself, he wouldn't even have bothered-

_For crying out loud, Sakusa._ Akaashi nearly groans into his hands as he rubs it, exasperated.

That guy had severe issues and some seriously messed up priorities.

_Then again, maybe not._

Come on, Akaashi, think.

Back to what he said back then. He wouldn't have bothered if it weren't' important.  _Meaning, it is important._

Sakusa isn't the type of person to rely on other's but he is now.  _Meaning, he can't be involved._

What else?

 

He gets up from the chair, feeling his brain clogging up on random information, bits and pieces and some of those are getting really repetitive. He walks into his kitchen and makes himself a cup of coffee. As he waits for the liquid to pour into the cup, he resumes his thinking.

What else was there? Let's see. Sakusa invited Kageyama over to Amsterdam, when he knew of the rumours, despite that guy having a physical incapability of putting that kid in even remotely dire situations, that much Akaashi knew. It was a proven fact even back then in college. After he got over himself and Kageyama's...critique. Let's put it that way. Knowing that, Akaashi really wondered as to why would Sakusa go against himself-

_Dear Rubens and Matisse._

The cup crashes against the floor tiles, shattering, hot coffee getting on Akaashi's slippers but he pay it no minds as his brain racks.

_It couldn't be related to that guy back in college._

_Anything but that._

 

The issues Sakusa and that guy had to cover were many and neither of them solvable in a near future.

Because anything worse than two people outright hating each other is two people outright hating each other to the point of that moving up the scale and getting stuck between exasperation and outright hostility.

How that came to be is completely beyond Akaashi because they literally don't see each other for years and yet, they still manage to get worse in the mean time.

It's just one disaster after another with those two in the same country, let alone the same city and god forbid the same room.

 

“Are you kidding me...” Akaashi mutters, rubbing his forehead.

_It's all fun and games until someone is after someone's head. Or, in this case, both._

 

About five seconds after, leaving the mess in the kitchen unattended, changing at the speed of light and out the door ready to leave the country was Akaashi with his phone and documents.

Half an hour later, he's sitting at the airport, leg jumping in distress as he waits for his flight.

_He needs several things confirmed first before he starts dialling numbers in panic._

Forcing himself no to think about it only ever left him thinking about it even more and

 

_Sweet Madonna and Child,_

_Kageyama and Tsukishima better not be dragged into that._

_If it even is that._

 

Akaashi sighs out, deeply, forcing himself to stop thinking. There is no point of panicking before he knows his fact.

_That, however, doesn't stop him from sending a few text._

 

_Just in case._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me assure you that I'm sorry for not being even remotely sorry for this one. i do think I wrote somewhere that this one might be a little darker and if I didn't, well I warn you now.
> 
> Also, college starts next Monday so I cannot promise the 1 to 3 days update schedule to will remain but I shall do my best. Happy readings.


	36. Conflicts and consequences

If Akaashi Keiji and his associates were on the thin line between “right” and “wrong” in this business of fine arts, then Miya Atsumu was definitely on the wrong side.

He knew it and he loved it. In every way.

A hero without a nemesis is out of a job, but a villain without a hero is one successful s.o.b.

In his case, that is very much correct.

 

Inheriting the network of informants from his family, he sought out do to something with that potential. A potential for greatness his family had wasted so far, in his opinion. Why have all that knowledge if one didn't use it? He thought it such a waste. Being so passive never sat with him.

So, his first step into the family business was with a little scheme. Just to make things interesting.

He didn't spend five years in art school, letting boring lectures drain him on a daily basis to watch others have fun and underappreciate things because they had to have them for fashion purposes. This season, it's Matisse. The other, Picasso. The one after that, it's Raphael.

No, no, no.

_Art is not a feeble fashion. Art is to inspire at all times. Touch the soul and open up the mind. To stir emotions and soothe them. It has to have impact and reach out to the one that sees it. Anyone can look at a painting. Seeing it...that's another story._

 

Miya snorts lightly at that thought.

Sure. That's all nice and noble, but sometimes, it was just much more fun to take things from people for the fun of their reaction. Rare are the cases that one millionaire spends a whole lot of green on something he truly appreciates. Maybe one or two things in their collection. Most of them collect dust and are replaced as soon as season's change.

They sell and buy art like everything else.

The real thrill is snatching it right under their nose, sit back and relax, watching the show. Add a little conflict when you pass down a not so true or even modified information. Then it gets really interesting.

Because, getting under people's skin is what Miya was especially skilled at.

He noticed it first with his family. He could have set them up against each other with the snap of his fingers. No one suspected the black sheep of the family, as they so affectionately called him, to be the one that orchestrated their demise. Did he care? Not particularly.

Their own fault for being naïve fools that expected things to go their way all the time.

It didn't take much to see them fall apart. Funny how a few well placed comments and old rumours could do so much damage. They tended to get in his way, expecting he'd follow their every beck and call. They didn't know him as well as they thought.

Their mistake.

 

_Because some people like to watch the world burn. It's a special kind of thrill._

 

He could list so many names. All of them quite entertaining.

“Shall we get going?” Terushima asks, looking at the time.

Miya cast him a glance.

“Why not?” He asks.

A little trip to Amsterdam to pick up some things to stir some trouble was something he was always up for. Maybe even visit an old...

...now what could they have been, exactly?

With Sakusa, he's pretty much in the clear after his little stunt back in their college days. With Kageyama...now that's a question he'd really like to know the answer to.

Their relations are...complicated.

While Sakusa had enough of him, not that Miya will complain about it, Kageyama Tobio had a...somewhat different mindset and general view of the world.

 

_Never in his life did Miya Atsumu ever think he could be that bored. Apparently, he was wrong._

_So, so wrong as the professor droned on and on about a conflict in Northern Italy around da Vinci's time with Miya stuck in the first row. He couldn't sit still any more, events of the last family meeting replaying in his head. He hated them all._

_All they did was to ruin a good thing, a good name._

_And then, just a week back, he learns that there was no such thing as a good name. Not that he cares about that. He found it more fun this way._

_Even so, the conflicts between them and Sakusa's family is one thing they never should have initiated. Sakusa Kiyoomi. Also fun to annoy the shit out of. Watching him slowly break over nothing was quite a sight. An interesting mind, he has. Too bad it was stuck. He never knew what it was. All he knew that, whatever it was, it was burying him alive. He was trapped in his own head. There was nothing worse than that._

_Miya always could get beneath everyone's skin, no matter who it was. But there was something about the Sakusa heir that made him pull his breaks and see what he would do. Would he manage to pull himself out of that pit he had fallen into. He was the one he couldn't reach, something else got to him first._

_And then someone else got to him next._

_By all means, that comment of his should have been the final nail in the coffin. Instead, it brought him back to life._

_Miya wished not once that such a stupid comment could help ease his mind as well._

_The whole situation is so moronic. His petty annoyance at their relationship, no matter how ridiculous it came to be, only dug him in deeper. He knew that. He could have just as easily have been pulled out of his own ditch by a silly comment coming from an equally lost kid in art school. And, boy, was he lost. Kageyama brought a whole new meaning to the messed up kid in art school thing. He was a curiosity in his own ways._

_But that didn't stop him from pulling Sakusa out of that ditch. That didn't stop him from asking just the right questions that seemed to easily bypass all the walls Miya had built up for years. It was uncomfortable. No one should read him so easily. But he did._

_What's worse, he did not do that out of some spite._

_Instead of using things he found out to his advantage, he reached out to him._

_Miya was confused. How. Why. Why would he do that? What is the point of possessing such knowledge and not using it? What did he want to accomplish?_

_Silly little doubts started to pop up, here and there._

_No, no, no. Kageyama doesn't get to read him like an open book. Miya does._

_A mistake, on his part. He didn't know anything about him. It was too much, too visible, too aggressive. Sakusa stepped in, aware of his little mind games, and Sakusa wasn't exactly the forgiving type once he crossed you off his list._

_Miya made a mistake. And lost his two favourite play things all at once._

_Again, all he could think of was...It was more fun that way._

_How silly. Exactly those kinds of moments where you have been watching closely and the development, the next step is so obvious and logical but then somehow all goes to shit in a blink of an eye and you're left staring confused as to what the fuck just happened. How. People are you crazy, what are you doing._

_But what really made his day was the amount of care Sakusa displayed when it came to Kageyama. He literally had Sakusa wrapped around his little finger. Could have had him do whatever he pleased. What he couldn't understand was why didn't he?_

_Why did he seek out to bring out the best in him? What was the point? He had no benefit from that. At least, none immediately visible to Miya._

_The kid seriously wasted a precious talent there._

_Whatever._

 

_His boredom was finally cured._

 

Unfortunately, that only lasted so long and new questions followed over time. No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn't reach the answer.

True, maybe he should have followed this plan he now had back then before he blew his cover and Sakusa practically tossed him into the trash can to get him away from Kageyama.

“ _You're not going to ruin him.” He once said to him._

Unfortunately, he just gave him his next project.

Because one does not simply tell Miya Atsumu what he can't do. His family did. A few other people did. And they were all wrong on the end.

Of course, Miya is aware that his obsessions got out of hand pretty quick and that he was way too spiteful for anyone's good, but...

_...as Kageyama once told him..._

“ _You're going to break if you keep putting up with things that pressure you so much.”_

That kid had some really good advice. Too bad Miya had a really bad case of pissing Sakusa off every chance he got because he could. Though, in hindsight, threatening to mess with Kageyama's head was a really dumb idea. Considering how much he actually liked the kid and the fact that Sakusa made sure they rarely crossed paths because of that dumb idea. Never mind the times when the kid wasn't even present at college because his future boss had other plans than regular classes.

When you're Oikawa Tooru, you get lots of leeway.

 

“You know what?” Miya begins, thinking over the whole plan.

“What?” Terushima, on the other hand, really hated when he asked that because that only meant he had yet another change of mind. A change of mind wasn't bad once in a while, but his got them planning things for two years now and frankly, he was bored and annoyed with it.

Like, make up your mind already.

It's been two years of your little experiments and crap. Just pick one and go by it. Is that really too much to ask?

“We're going for the _Rijksmuseum_ , after all.”

Great. Why couldn't they have gone there two years ago when he said it the first time? God, he was like those people who would have the couch moved all over the place only to decide the first position was the best one. Aggravation didn't even cover what befell Terushima at that point.

“ _You sure?”_

 

“ _Yes, I'm sure.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all you lovelies, since college started, I'll be updating and posting on the weekends mostly. Thank you for your patience and have a nice day.
> 
> Also, feel free to suggest prompts if you like, I'm accepting requests.
> 
> You can contact me here through the comments section or  
> Instagram: KoibitoDream  
> Tumblr: Rain-Sparks


	37. Connecting

As much as he'd like to think he's got everything under control, he doesn't. He doesn't have a clue where he stands with himself and that little project of his is not developing as it should after a few months. Maybe he rushed into this.

It's half past eight, Tsukishima sits at his computer, staring at the few photos he made since August. He's comparing them to the ones he made over the span of a year and a half before meeting Kageyama. On one hand, there are the pictures and shots inspired by him. On the other, his own wandering mind reflected into the scenery staring right back at him.

He keeps his distance, he knows he's still doing that.

Sakusa is right, he's hesitating.

He's also lying to himself. He knows exactly what he wants. There is evidence of it hidden away in the drawer. There is also evidence on his phone, hidden under a lock app he hasn't touched in a while.

It's the red umbrella photograph all over again.

Only this time, he knows who it is. He _wants_ to steal him away.

The more he clings to his so called self control, the more he feels it slip and for a moment there, he thinks he just might lose it.

 _That_ never happened before.

 

The train of thoughts is interrupted when he hears the front door open and close.

“Kei, you there?” He hears Akiteru ask and some paper rustle.

“Yeah...” He says, not intending to let his inner conflict get out but his voice betrays him. Akiteru picks up on that as he approaches him, brow arched in a question as he puts the printer supplies on the top of the thing.

“What's wrong?” His brother asks.

“Nothing in particular.” Kei says in his usual fashion, but Akiteru has picked up some tricks over the years to get him to talk.

“Want me to call Kageyama?” The older says in a light teasing tone, wiggling his brows suggestively but immediately drops the act as he sees Kei stiffen up a bit.

“...did you have a fight?”

“No, we're not fighting.” Kei says, removing his glasses for a bit to rub his eyes, not even bothering to get mad. “It's just...”

“I'm keeping some things from him and I'm not sure what to do with that.”

He sighs, shoulders slumping a bit.

“...is it bad?” Akiteru asks, uncertain, tilting his head a bit as he places a hand on his hip. Seriously, sometimes that brother of his can complicate things more than they need to be.

“No.” At least he _thinks_ it's not bad. Although, some pictures _do vaguely hint_ at prime stalker material. But, yeah, it's not _that_ bad.

_Whom is he kidding?_

“You can always talk to him, you know.” Akiteru offers the one thing that sounds like a good idea. Because relationships kind of work that way.

Then a thought occurs, making him scrunch his nose.

“...you didn't take any nude pictures without his permission, right?”

That gets him a reaction.

Kei immediately turns around, scandalised.

“What? No. What the hell, Akiteru?” He nearly shrieks.

The older of the two immediately puts his hands up.

“Just asking.”

“God, you 're impossible sometimes.” Kei says, pinching his nose, earning himself a small happy smile from his brother. “What now?”

“Oh, nothing. But if it's not unauthorised nude pictures that you need to worry about, then talking to him shouldn't be hard, right? You're good with words, if I'm not mistaken.” He grins but somehow that grin widens even more as he gives him _that_ look.

“Or did little Kei fall so hard that he can't form a proper sentence?” He laughs a bit at the end at the thought. He immediately starts laughing harder when he catches Kei's surprised expression.

“Not that there's anything wrong with that.” He immediately says afterwards as he calms down. “But if you didn't notice this, you're a real goner.”

“ _Oh shut up._ ” Kei mutters, tips of his ears turning hot.

“Come on, little brother, you and I both know you're not one to share your feelings all that much.” Or at all, at some points. “But there's really nothing wrong with that. Sharing thing, that is. It's okay to show how much you like someone once in a while. Or is it that he's not sure about this?”

“No, he's...”

“Hey, you don't have to tell me.” Akiteru ruffles his brother's hair. “Hope you're going to sort those thoughts out. The sooner, the better. It takes time for people to really get to know each other. There's no need to rush. You can figure things out at a later point, too. Just make sure you're on the same page about it as him.”

He glances as the monitor, wincing at the time.

“Gotta run, Kei, break's almost over.” He says.

“Right, better not make your boss mad.” Kei smirks, feeling a lot better, now that he said some things out loud.

“Ugh, don't even mention it.” Akiteru groans as he wraps his scarf around his neck and waves on his way out, but not before he turns around one more time, remembering he had something to tell him.

“Right, almost forgot, we're making a cover for the cultural section. The Rijksmuseum. Did you ask Kageyama about the interview?”

_Damn._

“I'll ask him. Sorry, I really forgot.” Kei says. He had every intention to ask Kageyama the other day but it turned out Sakusa also had every intention to have that nice little chat with him, too, so it kinda slipped his mind.

Akiteru grins again.

“No worries. The cover is next week so if you can get the reply by Tuesday, I'll be more than happy with that.”

“Yeah, will do.”

“Thanks. Now I really gotta run. See you!” He says, nearly bolting towards the door.

“Bye...”

The door closes after him and the younger Tsukishima is alone with his thoughts again.

 

* * *

 

 

Kageyama's phone rings just as he finishes a mail. He reaches out for it without sparing it a glance as he checks the mail again. Custom ringtones, gotta love them.

“Yes?”

“ _Hey, it's me. I forgot to ask you something._ ”

“What is it?”

“ _You know the magazine Akiteru works for?_ ”

“Yes?”

“ _They're doing a cover next week and it's the Rijksmuseum this time. Someone there got wind that you're here and he asked if you'd give them an interview._ ” A pause. “ _Not that you have to, Akiteru wouldn't mind even if you said no._ ”

The reasons why Kageyama wasn't exactly comfortable with these things were many. But it was Tsukishima's brother this time.

“What kind of interview?” He asks, debating heavily with himself.

“ _I...have no idea._ ”

“If it's about the museum and work related, I don't mind.”

“ _I'll tell him that. Thank you. Are you free this evening?_ ”

Kageyama glances at the clock.

“Yes, I have a few mails to send out, but that's it for the day.”

“ _Tomorrow?_ ”

“Also free.”

“ _...would you like to come over for dinner?_ ”

And now there's a smile spreading on Kageyama's face.

“Yes, I'd like to.”

“ _Great, see you around seven?_ ”

“Of course.”

It starts snowing again, lightly, as Kageyama looks out the window. He doesn't mind the snow, but being stuck inside the whole day is kind of getting to him. He finishes the mail, sends it and gets dressed for a walk.

The chill crisp air does wonders for his head, clearing his thoughts, waking him up more effectively than any amount of coffee.

He decides to visit a park, two, three streets down to stretch his legs. He's got a whole day ahead of him. Maybe visit that antique shop he saw the other day.

He pulls his phone out his coat as he walks, deciding to call home. It's been a while.

 

“ _Hanamaki speaking._ ” He hears on the other side after a few rings.

“Makki-san. Good morning.” Obviously, it's about evening back home but yeah.

“ _Oh, if it isn't Kageyama. How are you? Got into trouble?_ ” He hears the man tease, obviously happy about the call.

“I'm fine and not yet.” He teases back.

“ _Good, good. Something on your mind?_ ”

“Not really. Just called to hear from you. How is everybody?”

“ _The usual drama. And thank you again for the presents, they are really awesome. Oikawa loves his. He's been wearing that scarf you gave him around the clock. And we have a surprise for you but you'll have to wait until you get home to see it because I'm not telling._ ”

“Fine, I won't ask then.”

“ _I wish Oikawa was that reasonable._ ”

“You wouldn't be there if he was.”

“ _That is correct. By the way, sure there's nothing going on there?_ ”

“Not that I've noticed myself, other than the usual gossip. Why? Did you find something on that miniature?”

“ _No, afraid not. Sugawara and Issei have all but deconstructed it to atoms but no luck. They'll run one more thing but they're not all too confident to find anything._ ”

“Okay.”

“ _What's the deal with that thing any way?_ ”

“A friend of Tsukishima's is investigating the matter. Something or the other regarding stories here. They had some suspicions about the miniature and asked if there was anything on it.”

“ _Why didn't I think of that?_ ”

“I don't think anyone except them would have thought up of something like that.”

“ _You might have a point there._ ”

“Send Matsukawa-senpai and Sugawara-san my thanks.”

“ _Will do. So how are things with Tsukishima?_ ”

_Of course he'd ask that._

“Great. We're meeting for dinner this evening.”

“ _Oh? Out or his place?_ ”

“His.”

“ _When?_ ”

“Around seven?” Is that really that important?

“ _You should definitely show up earlier._ ”

“Makki-san...”

“ _I'm serious. Bring some dessert with you. Trust me on that._ ”

“Isn't arriving earlier rude?”

“ _Absolutely not. Late, yes, early, not so much._ ”

“...fine.”

He can hear the happy  _yes_ faintly in the distance on the phone.

“...but if I kiss the door, I blame you.”

“ _Deal. Wait a bit. Okay, so Issei wants to know if you seen the opera last week?_ ”

“Yes, I did. It was great.”

“ _Yeah, he did. Now heck off, he called me._ ” That one brings a smile on his lips. The snow lets up a bit as he crosses the street, part slowly coming into view.

“ _Is that Kageyama?_ ” He hears Iwaizumi somewhere in the back.

“ _No._ ”

“ _No, my ass, give me that._ ”

“ _Issei, he took my phone._ ”

“ _Hey there, kid. Enjoying Amsterdam?_ ”

“Hello, Iwaizumi-senpai. Yes, I love it here.”

“ _Great. Listen, you know about those rumours going on?_ ”

“Of course.”

“ _Well, not to burst your bubble or raise unnecessary panic, but they seemed to have died down rather fast for the last couple of days, so just be on your guard, okay?_ ”

“Will do, Iwaizumi-senpai.”

“ _If there's anyone suspicious, feel free to go all out. I'm taking the all the blame._ ” There's a sound of shifting as Hanamaki reclaims his phone.

“ _Yes, Kageyama, if you notice anyone suspicious, be sure to kick them in the face. Like, full frontal, don't hold back. I got you on the legal side._ ”

“Thank you.”

“ _Nah, don't mention it. Just be safe, okay?_ ”

“I will.”

“ _Great. Have fun and don't forget the dessert._ ”

“Promise I won't.”

“ _And greet Tsukishima from us._ ”

“Yes.”

“ _Night, kid._ ”

“Good night, senpai.”

 

Aw, crud, he forgot to ask how early  _was_ early. The message arriving from Hanamaki as if on cue resolved that matter for him. Good thing he had Hanamaki-senpai around.

He's just about to enter the park when his phone rings.

 

“Sakusa-senpai? Anything wrong?” He asks as he presses the phone against his ear.

“ _Your direction._ ”

“Huh?”

“ _If you would be so kind and turn around._ ”

He does and there are Sakusa and someone he really hasn't seen in a good while. Akaashi offers a smile as Sakusa waves at him from across the street. He joins them shortly.

“Good morning, Akaashi-san.” He greets. “Long time, no see.”

“Morning. That is true, sadly. How are you?”

“Good, now that I'm outside.”

“So what compelled you to walk around in this weather?” Sakusa asks as the three of them start walking in the direction of the only place Sakusa ever visits for a cup of coffee.

“I can only stare at the computer screen for so long.”

“Clever.”

He then turns to Akaashi.

“What brings you here?”

“A possible common acquaintance of ours.” He says and Kageyama doesn't miss the uneasy tone in his voice. He then stops in his tracks.

“Miya-san?”

“Possibly.” Sakusa mutters, expression darkening.

“You're still fighting?” Kageyama then turns his attention to him, disappointment clear on his features.

_As if Sakusa could ever_ not _soften up when it's him._

“As admirable as your intentions were back then to reconcile us, Tobio, you must understand that some situations and past events are beyond that.” He says, voice softer. “There are things you don't know and it would mean the world to me if you could just trust me on this matter.”

He's not happy about that fact, but a fact it remains.

“...alright.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you at least tell me if he has anything to do with the recent development of things?”

Clever boy. Why Sakusa thought keeping quiet would be a good idea, he doesn't know. Akaashi merely buries his face deeper into his scarf.  _At least one of them is finding this funny._

“Shall we go in?” Akaashi asks as he holds the door once they arrive to the café.

“About the recent developments of things”, Sakusa begins as they all sit down, “he could be behind it. He's always been a variable. I have some unresolved issues with him and I don't want you to get in the middle of it.”

_Too bad he already got in between_ , Akaashi thinks, but remains quiet.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Unfortunately.” A small pause creeps in between them as the waiter brings their orders.

“Is there anything I need to know?” Kageyama asks once the waiter returns to behind the counter.

“Nothing you don't already know. Just be careful.”

“Alright.” There's nothing else he _can_ do at the moment, any way, so he decides not to think about it more than necessary. He turns to Akaashi.

“So what brings you here, Akaashi-san?”

“Information exchange and to pick Bokuto-san and Kuroo up.”

“They're here?”

“No, in Antwerp. I'll send your regards, though.”

“Could you tell Bokuto-san there was nothing on that miniature, after all?”

“What miniature?”

“The Lady in Gray?”

The confused look tells him all he needs to know.

“Bokuto-san called the other night and asked if we noticed anything with the miniature. Some message or the other, seeing how it was returned to Oikawa-san shortly after.”

“Really?” Akaashi knits his brows. He has no idea what compelled Bokuto to ask that. Well, he'll find out soon enough. “I'll be sure to tell him that.”

“Thank you.”

A girl of some ten or so years passes by the window, carrying a box in her hands, very careful not to drop it.

“Sakusa-senpai.”

“Yes?"

“Would you recommend some bakeries?”

 

* * *

 

 

Tsukishima finally moves from the computer, leaving the printer to do it's job and print out the stack of photos needed for next month's issue along with the special edition album. It should be in an hour or so.  _Maybe three._

Good news is, he can just leave it and tend to other things.

_Though the doorbell ringing says otherwise._

_What time was it?_

Upon opening the door, the sight of his rather snowed in boyfriend with a box in his hands greets him and it's rather picturesque. With the tip of his nose a bit red and a nice dusting of snowflakes on his shoulders and hair. _Where's a camera when you need one?_

_Okay, he should really stop that._

“I'm afraid I'm a little early.” He says with a small smile.

“Not at all.” Tsukishima _still_ has _no idea_ what time it is. “Come in before you freeze.”

“Thanks. This is for you.”

Tsukishima can't help but peek inside the box, although he's got a pretty good idea on what it could be. The sweet scent is unmistakable.

“How did-”

“Cheated. Asked Akiteru-san.” Kageyama admits as he takes of his scarf.

_Not that Tsukishima minds._

“Let me help you with that.” He offers as he sets the box aside on a chair and takes his coat.

“Need a pair of socks?”

“No, these shoes agree with the snow.”

_They both snort at the memory._

“So I was thinking something local for tonight if you don't mind.” Tsukishima says as he walks into the kitchen, placing the box into the fridge for the time being.

“Didn't know you cooked.”

“Honestly, I don't think my cuisine is bad but Bokuto is a better cook.” Tsukishima says as he reaches for a few prepared ingredients and pans.

“Just don't tell him I said so.” He peeks over the counter.

“I won't.”

Two minutes later, the water kettle clicks, indicating it's ready and Tsukishima reaches for it.

“Need help?” Kageyama asks.

“No, I need you to sit back and relax. Hands.”

Kageyama reaches over the counter he sits at and Tsukishima grabs his fingers.

“Still cold. How do you take your tea?”

“Plain.”

“Okay, so I need you to sit back, relax and warm up.” He pours the water into the teapot resting on the tray and puts it before Kageyama before resuming his cooking. “How was your day?”

“Sent a few mails. Took a walk. Called back home. Everyone sends their hello's and ran into Sakusa-senpai and Akaashi-san.” Kageyama lists as he carefully wraps his hands around the teapot to warm them.

“Akaashi?”

“Yes. I suppose you know of the recent rumours going around?”

“Yes?”

“Turns out we might know the one behind them. Maybe.”

“How so?”

“It's a senpai from college.”

“...should we be worried?” He asks and Kageyama fells his cheeks sting a bit.

_We._

_Sounds nice._

“Not really.” He says, feeling warm and not because of the teapot. “Just to be careful and I got instructions to kick suspicious people in the face.”

Tsukishima laughs a bit as he works around a pan.

“Yeah, Bokuto and Kuroo told me about that one.”

“They did?”

“Yes. Scared them to death.” He winks at him and now Kageyama's really embarrassed.

“That's great, you know.” He continues, quite happy with the blush on Kageyama's face. “Wish I knew a thing or two back when I was in India.”

“What happened in India?”

“...a lot of things. There was a riot. Then a few gangs got involved. Bullets flying. One got me by the shoulder.”

“Does Akiteru-san know?”

“No..I...haven't told him of that. He worries as it is when I go out the country. Besides, there was nothing he could have done back then, so I didn't want him to pass out from worry.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I can imagine.” Tsukishima offers a small smile. “It's one thing to get shot by a complete stranger and sent to the hospital on the account of someone you _do_ know.”

“Bokuto-san told you?”

“Yes, he also asked me to tell you that his offer to join us still stands if you want to switch places.”

“I'll think about it.”

“Would you consider staying here tonight as well?” He asks, failing to control his face as he grins.

“Well played.” Kageyama smiles back, removing his fingers from the porcelain.

“So that's a no?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Alright, I'll let you think about it.”

A comfortable silence settles between them as Tsukishima finishes up the last touches. When in doubt, keep it simple-r. Though he's quite happy how his culinary creation turned out.

 

“Anything you prefer?” Tsukishima asks, dinner and dessert done, standing by the cabinet he keeps the spirits in.

“Bailey's, Ballantine's or Jameson.”

“I've got all three.”

“Then Bailey's.”

“Figured.”

“Did you.”

“Milk.”

“Yes.”

One of the things that happen when you have such great company is that, essentially, drinks end up being a decorum on the coffee table and a good excuse to keep playing hard to get. Sort of. One conversation topic easily followed the other and then things got in an interesting direction.

 

“ _Is this your way of seducing me?” Kageyama asks, voice low, leaning on his shoulder against the back of the couch, with a small smile and relaxed posture, without a care in the world, and Tsukishima has to blink a few times to get his thoughts in order because that sight is more intoxicating than the four sips of his own drink he took during the evening._

_Because who needs alcohol when you got an extremely handsome boyfriend obviously enjoying your company, bathed in a warm golden light and shadows, his attention yours and yours only._

_Tsukishima's knees are weak and he's still sitting._

“ _Maybe?” He says, also quiet because he doesn't dare break this moment. It's just...“This is not exactly what I had in mind when I invited you over?”_

“ _What did you have in your mind, then?”_

_Why does it feel like he's in on his guilty little secret? He feels so exposed under that gaze and damn does it feel good. He feels his skin tingle under the intensity and he can't help but let it pull him in._

“ _I...may not have been completely honest with you.”_

_And there's that little smile again, barely a shadow of a real one and Tsukishima knows he's a goner._

“ _About?”_

_Oh, well...since he went and ran his mouth..._

_The faint ghost of a smile turns into a shy one, cheeks red and Tsukishima knows for a fact it's not the alcohol because he has yet to reach for it from the table. He leaves his phone on the table before gently brushing his thumb against hot skin, claiming his attention once more._

“ _Tobio...”_

_He looks up to him, eyes reflecting everything he feels and maybe he should have thought this better through before he went and showed him what he hid. Having his heart stop beating so fast would have helped, too, but alas, his mind and body are two entities tonight._

 

_He finds himself a little short of breath, chest feeling a little too tight and that tingling he feels in his lips is not helping the matter at all._

 


	38. Instincts

The next morning, Tsukishima wakes up entangled in sheets and bed covers next to a still sleeping Kageyama.

And he can't stop the small smile spreading upon seeing him first thing in the morning. They're probably the oddest couple he knows of.

Save Yamaguchi, who has yet to reveal his lover, but Tsukishima's not about to push him into that. When he's comfortable enough, they'll meet. Speaking of which, he should really introduce him to Kageyama. Though, he has no doubts Akiteru already spilled the beans from their first meeting. He was just too nervous a wreck not to.

About nervous wrecks.

Not that he's not confident in his skills, but honestly, the moment he realised a few things hit him like a ton of bricks. As in hard. Really hard. Enough to set off a few panic bells in his head, which rarely ever happens. He can't help it. He's too far gone to think rationally in some segments. In other, he doesn't think he's ever been in such a state. Not to this degree, any ways. When someone just fits you in so many ways...

Maybe Akiteru was right.

Maybe he should just let go of some things and see what happens. It's not like he has to know everything there is right off the bat. No one does. Kageyama's new in a lot of things concerning relationships, too.

Then again...

No.

It's him. He's also the one who wants this thing to work.

That changes a lot.

And while he's busy contemplating things he refused to think about and how they just so happened to fall into place without him doing anything, Kageyama stirs a bit and wakes up.

“... _morning_...” He mumbles and the stupid smile is back, Tsukishima can feel it.

“...morning...” He says, reaching out to brush those unruly bangs out of his face.

“...how are you?” He then asks, softly, placing a kiss on his bare shoulder, so wonderfully warm.

“...I slept like a baby.”

That must be the loudest snort he's ever produced in his life.

“Well I'm glad to hear that.” He pulls him closer, placing another kiss on his temple, because he's just so kissable. And he likes it.

They stay like that for a while, both dozing off lightly once more, it's just too comfortable and warm not to, before Tsukishima wakes up fully this time.

“Sleep some more, I'll go prepare some breakfast.” He whispers before heading off to the kitchen. The sooner that's done, the sooner he gets back.

And that can't come soon enough because it's rather chilly in the morning before the heaters start working, he tends to that while on his way through the living room, ignoring the disarray of pillows on the sofa and some on the floor.

Wearing just boxers and a t-shirt and going barefooted seemed like a good idea at the time.

Light toast, coffee, tea, milk, some crackers, sandwich ingredients on a tray and he hears light footsteps and his still sleepy boyfriend comes into view – hair beautifully messed up but he didn't seem to care all that much, it's his free day and he's not in a hurry. Tsukishima also must admit that that shirt on him looks great, even if it's a bit long in the sleeves.

“You call that sleeping some more?” Tsukishima teases as he turns to get the honey out of the pantry.

“I'm usually up at five in the morning...” Kageyama yawns, scrunching up his nose.

“Why?”

“Habit.”

“Well here's my day off habit, have breakfast and go back to bed.” Unless there are pressing issues or one of the editors decided they needed that one picture after all.

“I like the sound of that.” Kageyama says after giving it a few seconds thought, taking a seat by the counter.

“...you really okay?” Tsukishima asks as he notices him staring at his own wingers in his lap.

“Just a slight trembling in my fingers...” He says, rubbing his hands together.

_...he sure knows how to compliment a guy, he'll give him that._

_Not that Tsukishima was aiming for that...but he kinda had a feeling that might happen, hence his inquiry of his free days._

_Because, if Sakusa saw his favourite's fingers trembling in the morning, he would have killed him. Yes, he knows. Not everything but enough._

He takes a seat next to him, taking his hands.

“Too much?” He asks.

“...no. I...liked it.”

“Mhm.” Tsukishima smiles.

“...may I kiss you?” Kageyama then asks, almost knocking him out of his seat.

“ _...I don't see why not.”_

* * *

 

“You're an idiot.” Terushima says, taking off his gloves at the latest introduction of Miya's plans. They're not that close but there is some degree of partnership that allows him to be so frank with a person such as Miya is.

“...you don't like the plan?” Miya offers a smile.

“Not by a long shot.”

“What's wrong with it?”

“It's a drag and too showy and if I remember correctly, Sakusa Kiyoomi is more skilled in that department.”

“...you are no fun.”

“I'm merely stating the facts. In the conviction that you want that plan to succeed, that is.”

“I think it's great.”

“Then why do you even ask?”

“Because you and Kyoutani will be the ones to accompany me.” Miya says, leaning back into the sofa. “But, if you say it's a drag, I'm going to think of something else.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Okay, I'll just adjust some parts.”

“That's more like it.”

“So, what do we have on that...whatever his name is?”

Terushima rolls his eyes. How the hell was he so successful? Oh, right. He's got that part mostly Kyoutani and him to thank for.

“There's nothing you should be worried about. Except that they are dating.”

“...really now? Wow.”

Terushima blinks at him.

“Surprised?” He stares, incredulous, at the man now lying on the sofa because he's a brat. “You?”

“You'd be too, if you knew that kid.”

“Whatever.” He's not about to enter that den. He's got way to many things to deal with as it is. Miya is a handful on his own.

“Say...” and here it comes, another great idea. “What do you say if make things interesting?”

_Aw, hell no._

* * *

 

“I really don't mind you being here, but please don't knock anything over. Most of these can melt through a floor easily.” Sakusa says, not looking up from a spot he's working on.

“You work with that strong acids?” Tsukishima asks.

“I have my reasons."

“I don't doubt that.”

Tsukishima spends the new few minutes watching him work in silence. There's something about people painting that always claims his attention. He didn't have much chance to see Akaashi painting, and he wasn't all that interested back then, too, but lately, it's a whole new fascination for him.

“Want to try?” He hears Sakusa ask him, snapping him out of his train of thoughts.

“I'm not that skilled with a brush.” He replies, quietly.

“You could hold this for me, though.” He points at the edge of the painting, a 130 x 98 cm, oil on canvas, late Renaissance period private work he had been working on.

Seems harmless enough.

“Why are you letting me touch this?” The photographer asks as he holds the canvas the way Sakusa showed him.

“Well, you took away my helping pair of hands and I need someone to hold that like that so I can get to the spot under the paint.” Sakusa replies, dipping a thin long brush in some clear liquid before carefully spreading it under the piece of paint he held up with his other hand.

“I imagined this way simpler.”

“I'm sure you did.”

“You make it look so easy to deal with.”

“Why thank you.”

A few minutes later, Tsukishima could lower the piece of canvas back on the post on the work bench.

“You have my gratitude for your assistance.”

“Don't mention it.”

“Your brother seems nice.”

“He is.”

“Figured. Tobio doesn't really like interviews. They tend to pry in things not of their concern.”

“I can relate. I don't like strangers asking me private things, too.”

“Could you hand over the blue marked bottle?”

Tsukishima reaches for the glass bottle, careful not to let it slip, it's much heavier than it looks like.

“What is that?”

“That will make sure the paint I just lifted will stay stuck to the canvas without much damage to either.”

“See this bit?” Sakusa points out to a different colour.

“Yes?”

“Noticed that it's a degree lighter than the rest under this light?”

“Yes.”

“That's what happens if you just salvage the paint by adding more colour. The colour oxidises differently because it's new. It's not seen under daylight or the standard reflectors used, but under this light, you can see the difference. I tend to avoid this as much as possible, but sometimes it's unavoidable. We just don't have Renaissance bricks any more. Unless they decide to tear down a building.” He adds as an afterthought, looking like he'd be first to suggest the idea if asked.

“Akaashi would be appalled.”

“I know. That's why he sends most of the work by mail, if he can.”

“Tobio wouldn't like a torn down building but I can see him come up with a way to get a brick or two.” Tsukishima says.

“And that's why he's here and not Akaashi.” Sakusa smiles.

“There's someone else here, too.”

“Oh?”

“You and Tobio know him well.”

Sakusa pauses for a bit, spends an entire second thinking about it and then resumes his work.

“Well, as long as he behaves, I don't care.”

“Should I be worried?"

“Did Tobio tell you to worry?”

“No, but I know how he handled being kidnapped so I can't really trust his judgement on that one...”

Sakusa actually laughs at that.

“I see we agree.”

“You should have heard him and Bokuto discuss ideas.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Made Akaashi drink a whole bottle.”

“That's a detail he failed to mention.”

“I'm sure he did.”

“Well, about that one”, Sakusa says, setting the thin brush aside and getting an even thinner one, “like I said, if he behaves, then you have nothing to worry about.”

“And if not?”

“ _Then we all have something to worry about.”_

* * *

 

“Thank you, Kageyama-kun.” Akiteru says as he gathers his notes. “You're a life saver. Never knew there's so much work to do.”

“It's a constant battle.” The other replies, also getting up from the sofa. Giving interviews required a lot of sitting and talking when he could have been helping Sakusa-senpai out, but it was Kei's brother and he was of the polite kind.

“How's Amsterdam so far?” Akiteru asks.

“I like it.” Kageyama says. “Never had the opportunity to explore it before, but now that I did, I really like it.”

“I had a tough time.”

“How so?”

“I was transferred here in the worst possible moment and realised I barely knew the name of the street I lived in after two months.”

“And now?”

“I guess I like it, too. If nothing else, it was the one place I could always count on Kei returning to when going around the world to take pictures. We, well, I, for most part, used to travel around a lot more and this city somehow became the cross point where we could meet here and there during that period. Now that I don't, I'm really starting to like it here. I don't adjust to new places as easily as Kei.”

“Maybe it just sat with him on the first try.”

“Could be that, too.” Akiteru smiles.

“Shall I see you out?” Kageyama asks as they exit the room Sakusa let them use.

“Uh, yes, please, I get lost in here way too easily...”

“This way then.” Kageyama motions down the corridor on the right.

They pass a few exhibition rooms, with Akiteru asking about this or that painting. Kageyama answers everything, quite enthusiastic about some.

The elder Tsukishima is on his way down down the front door stairs when he almost walks into someone.

A quick apology is exchanged,

but there's something that makes him looks back.

He then shrugs it off, probably nothing.

He should hurry back. There's a lot he needs to write down before the next issue gets into print. Kageyama is nothing if not detailed oriented in his explanations. Saves Akiteru a lot of hours of going through art books and dictionaries.

 

_What an issue this is going to be._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been way too long, I am sorry, but college calls.
> 
> QQ


	39. His resolve

Standing in an art museum is always a liberalising experience. At least for Miya Atsumu it is. One could easily sink into any world if one had enough imagination. Each piece had countless tales to tell. Each tale involve so many people and so many worlds.

There weren't many who could grasp the vastness of time embedded into pieces, holding not only a piece of time but a piece of the master himself. Or, herself.

The world often spoke of mad geniuses when it came to painters. Each of them, trapped inside their own world, given precious time and skills to bring it out.

It was not, however, the master or mistress of the brush that fascinated him, it was the source of their inspiration, their muse.

_What was it? What did he see in him back then, past that half mad wreck of a human being Sakusa Kiyoomi once was? How did his voice silence those in his head when no one else could reach?_

 

“Miya-san.”

 

Miya Atsumu sighs lightly, turning around. And there he is. Blue eyes with genuine concern in them. Out of all of him, that is the one thing that always manages to surprise him.

“Long time, no see, Kageyama-kun.” He smiles.

“Indeed.”

“How have you been?”

“Mostly fine.” He says. “You?”

“Oh, I've been just superb.”

“Sakusa-senpai is still angry with you. You shouldn't be here too long.” He says.

“I know. But if I had you come over at my place, he's be furious.”

“Why is he so mad at you?”

Ah, there he is. The first year art student, asking all the right questions.

“I've been a pain once too often and as much as Sakusa's patience is almost boundless, there is so much of my nonsense he can take.”

Not much of an answer, but he won't be going into deeper detail than that. Kageyama can tell, but he will not comment on it.

“The Old Town Hall of Amsterdam is scheduled for repairs next week.” He opts to say. “If you remember the man in the yellow garment, it started turning a different colour.”

“Such a shame.” He really did look forward to see that one. He always rather liked it.

“The Love Letters are done with the restoration process, though.”

“...you actually remembered?” Miya laughs.

He and Sakusa would bicker over it and Kageyama would listen to them both before drawing his own conclusions. Good old days.

“You wrote a few great papers on those. They were inspiring.”

“Thank you. Well then, if the Old Town hall is unavailable, I think I'll take my leave. It was nice seeing you, Kageyama-kun.”

“Likewise, Miya-san.”

He really hasn't changed. Not in that aspect, at least.

 

“Great news!” Miya exclaims upon half kicking the door of Terushima's room, startling him off the couch. “I know what I want.”

 

_Well that's a first._

 

“Really? Fascinating. Tell me more about it.” Terushima mumbles, half a sleep since he literally just shut his eyes not five minutes ago.

But, if it means they can move along already, he could sacrifice a few hours of sleep.

 

_“So? What is it?"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short one. Promise I'll make it up to you all with the next one >:3


	40. Got me right where I want you

“How was the interview?” Tsukishima asks, carefully holding an UV lamp while Sakusa taps his brush lightly against the pigment.

“Great. Akiteru-san insisted on the technical details.” Kageyama says as he walks over to them, happy with the notion that they're getting along just fine.

He waited until Sakusa was finished with the procedure.

“What is it?” Sakusa asks, blinking a few times.

“...Miya-san was here.” Kageyama says, picking up a pair of gloves. “Didn't stay long, though, since the Old Town Hall is not on display for the public.”

“I see.”

“…are you angry?” The younger asks after a few minutes of working in silence.

“…it’s not that, Tobio.” He sighs, setting the brush aside. “A lot has happened since college and I don’t want you to have to deal with it.”

“If you’re referring to what he has been up to, I am aware of it.” Kageyama says, looking up from his side of the canvas. “Please don’t treat me like a child, Sakusa-senapi, I can take care of myself.”

Tsukishima returns from the bakery to see them locked into a stare off. There’s a silent conversation going on, he can feel it, and it ends in Sakusa sighing deeply when Kageyama arches a brow.

“…fine. Have it your way.” Sakusa does smile a little bit. He just can’t say no to him or argue with his logic. Kageyama _did_ manage to get him out of that half dead state and who’s he to question him, in the end.

Tsukishima also ends up arching a brow at them both as they start laughing quietly at some sort of private joke.

Seeing his boyfriend like that is a nice experience, he must say.

“What?” He asks, in the end, fighting a smile of his own because those two are ridiculous. His question only makes the two restaurateurs laugh harder and they both decide to take a break. Kageyama waves it off, promising he’ll explain later as Tsukishima looks his way.

“How’s a little dance break sound?” Sakusa asks, walking over to his beloved little stereo, wrapped in see-through foil carefully, turning it on and the studio is filled with light dance music playing softly from the speakers.

“May I have this dance?” Sakusa asks, giving Tsukishima’s confused look a _senpai before boyfriend_ look and the younger of the two gets the picture pretty quick. The photographer wonders idly what would happen if he and Hanamaki ended up in the same room and someone happened to look at Kageyama the wrong way.

He’s pretty sure that would be a gruesome sight.

Though, when the two start dancing, it everything _but_ a gruesome sight. The way they move has him pay close attention, not able to look away. Sakusa is a great dancer, no doubt about it, leading Kageyama, letting him take over a few when he feels like it and they fit together like nothing Tsukishima has ever seen before.

“…mind if I take a few pictures?” He hears himself ask.

Neither of the two have anything against it as the song moves on and Kageyama laughs when Sakusa pulls him closer to the rhythm of _Dance with me, make me sway, like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close, sway me more._

Tsukishima’s completely mesmerized by the sight of Kageyama, so relaxed and happy in that moment, an amused laugh spilling here or there at something Sakusa says and then he’s directing his deep blue eyes Tsukishima’s way and _fuck if he didn’t develop a critical heart condition right then and there_ , with the way breathing becomes hard and his pulse picking up under that gaze.

The camera is taken away from him at some point because he’s burning up from inside out, forehead against Kageyama’s, as they move to a softer tune, in sync, and Kageyama’s all but melting under his touch, carefully threading his own fingers through those blond soft locks of hair, enjoying the feeling under his fingers.

Sakusa’s out the doors with his phone in hands, answering a call with a small smile on his lips.

Let those two have their moment.

 

“Sakusa.” He says, speaker on because no way in hell will he have that thing anywhere near his ear.

“ _Oh, good, you answered._ ” He hears his boss say. “ _This is kind of a stupid question but do you have some time to spare today?_ ”

“Yes.”

“ _…you do?_ ” The confusion in his boss’s voice is priceless. “ _Well if you do, I need you in the office for a short while, there’s a new shipment and I need your opinion on it._ ”

“I’ll be in your office in a while.”

“ _Thank you. See you later._ ”

“I don’t want a thank you, I want a new set of brushes.”

“ _But-_ ”

“I’m busy.”

“ _Fine, you can have your damn brushes, just get over here._ ”

“On my way.”

He can still hear his boss mutter something, probably cursing him, but he doesn’t care, he’s getting a new set of fine pointed brushes whose price tag is going to make the man weep. Oh, the joys of being him.

He gets his coat and scarf, nodding at the guard on his way out, getting a nice dose of clean air and a fix of oxygen that wakes him up better than a cup of black, making a mental note to pick some of that up when he heads back from the office.

He then notes he has no idea what kind of coffee Tsukishima drinks.

Oh, well…

He’ll get one and everything on the side and he better be grateful.

 

“So what do you think?” His boss asks, as excited as a little kid, at the tiny set off porcelain cups from what supposed to be the late 1890’s. 

“This for personal use or for the gallery?” Sakusa asks, inspecting it.

“Personal.” The man says.

“Don’t give me that look." He adds as Sakusa shoots him a look that could probably shatter the navy tinted cups with a gold rim on the handle. “If it’s the genuine thing, you can hand over the list of all your supply needs and wishes.”

 _Well… if he puts it_ that _way._

“One has a scratch on the bottom.” Sakusa says after a close up examination. “Otherwise, they’re fine and I do recommend you be careful with them.”

“So they’re the genuine thing?”

“They’re the genuine thing.” Sakusa confirms, taking out his phone and sending the list of the supplies to his boss’s mail.

“You’re a life saver. I’ll have this packed and sent over to France. That fucker better keep his end of the deal.”

“Oh, so it’s _that_ personal.”

“…what else do you want?”

“I’ll send it via mail.” Sakusa says as he makes his way through the door.

_Leaving his boss in great doubts whether that sum the Frenchman is supposed to hand over is going to sufficient._

So, coffee in the box, a few pastries to accompany it and he’s on his way back to the studio.

 

_Only to step on a bullet shell and find Tsukishima on the floor._


	41. The way we started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Terushima experiences death every second sentence.

To say that Terushima was on the verge of setting himself on fire and kicking Miya in the face while at it was an understatement, but he couldn’t say or do much at the moment. Because said person was busy inspecting the bruise on his newest houseguest cheek and having the decency to look a little bit remorseful.

The summary he got was that Kyoutani went with Miya to pick Kageyama up, only the kid wasn’t informed of that beforehand and that ended up becoming every kind of mess. He’ll ask for the details later. Right now, he needed to try and make some sense out of this bullshit.

“I was thinking you'd stay here for a while. Until that bruise goes away at least.” Miya says, placing a cool cloth on the bruise blossoming beautifully across his cheek.

“Is there a point in that?” Kageyama asks, clearly not amused and Terushima stiffens because no one speaks to Miya like that and lives.

“Not really.” Miya smiles apologetically, causing Terushima to gape at him. “I just like to piss Sakusa off.”

 

_Well._

_As long as Tsukishima was safe._

 

“What happened to you?” Kageyama asks. 

 _Always the compassionate one_ , Miya thinks. _How sweet. Too bad he ended up pissing him off all the time, too._

“Followed your advice.” He says, letting Kageyama take the cloth and hold in his stead. “You were right. I was pretending to be someone who I'm not. I feel so much better now.”

He might have said something else, but Terushima interrupted as he read the message he got on his phone right then.

“Kyoutani's secured. He slipped past them.” He informs them, eyes briefly on the bruise colouring nicely on Kageyama's face under the cloth pressed against it, wincing slight as he saw how big it was.

“Well would you look at that. I have nothing to worry about.” Miya smiles, standing up, getting his phone. “But you'll have to excuse me, Kageyama-kun, I really do have a few more pressing matters to tend to. Keep that bruise cool so it doesn't spread. Would be a shame if you had to suffer through that longer than necessary.”

“Terushima, let’s give him a moment.” Miya says as he walks out the door, Terushima following closely behind, asking himself what did he do in life exactly to have to deal with this.

The moment the doors closed, Kageyama started shaking.

 

_…did all of that really happen because of what he said back then?_

_Did that one question cause the final deterioration of their relations?_

_Did he really bring them – bring Tsukishima – in danger because of that?_

 

“Make sure he keeps that iced and see to it that nothing happens to him while he’s here.” Miya raised an eyebrow at a scowling Terushima, pretty sure he heard something along the line of _not his fault for Kyoutani’s instinct kicking in._

So the kid could fight back, not something they anticipated, the hell was Miya even expecting? Kyoutani isn’t the best choice of escort when adrenaline kicks in, he can be pretty violent but for that kid to have knocked him out and all he has a bruise on his cheek tells him a hell of a lot about him.

Not that Miya held it that much against him for reacting like that. Kageyama was full of surprises. He managed to bring down even Kyoutani. Not just anyone could do that.

“Why are these people so dumb?” Miya comments more for himself as he walks over to the car. “I have no clue when I’m getting back, so do as you please.”

Terushima made sure he didn't turn around last second before he walked back in. That guy could be easy as a feather to deal with and worse than a bag of pissed off snakes at the same time. Now to check up on the young man and hopefully not end up a speck on the wall.

“Truce?” He asks, covering himself with a big sofa pillow as he knocks on the door before coming in.

Kageyama didn't say a word and Terushima peeked over the pillow. He dropped the thing immediately, walking over to him. He kept the cloths against his cheek but the stillness freaked him out.

“Hey-” His eyes went wide as Kageyama seized his wrist as he was about to reach out for him, not looking too well. Unfortunately, Terushima recognised that as Miya's doing. Seriously, that guy needed a healthier hobby. Pissing so much people off couldn't be good in the long run.

“ _I believe you were informed of the line of work Iwaizumi was before he joined Oikawa._ ” He says calmly, feeling his fingers going a bit numb because _damn he had a good grip_. The line seemed to have helped him, though, as he feels Kageyama loose up a bit.

“You're Kyoutani?” He blinks at him, arching a brow.

“No.” He smiles. “I'm Terushima. Kyoutani's the one you knocked out cold. Iwaizumi taught you well.”

Now Kageyama let go of him completely with an apologetic look.

“Don't worry about it, he'll live.” He hopes so, at least. That was a good kick that also landed well.

“I'm so sorry you got caught up in this mess.” He says, removing the cloth from Kageyama's cheek to inspect the damage. Crap, he really should have watched where he pressed his face back there.

“I probably caused it.” Kageyama mutters.

“What? No, don't be silly. It's just that Miya has nothing better to do than mess with people's heads. Whatever he told you...just try and not think about it too much.” Because that guy needs a head examination that is long overdue. “This undercover is taking way too long if you ask me, but we can't do shit until everything is settled. Even then, I doubt we'll ever truly have him.”

_Because his attorneys are usually more expensive than those the state has to offer._

“What would make you think you caused this mess?” Terushima can't help but ask as he fixes a bandage to his cheek. _Iwaizumi was going to kill him for this._

“I...kind of gave him the advice to stop trying to impress other people and just do his own thing back in college.” Kageyama says, looking very disappointed. Man, Terushima doesn't even _want_ to being thinking about how much this weighs on him. _Damn it, Miya. Hobby change. Definitely_.

“I just couldn't help it. He didn't look like he was okay with whatever was going on with him.”

“Great advice, but don't beat yourself up about it. Not like you knew his true colours back then.”

“People got hurt because of that.”

“No. People got hurt because he needs a head doctor.” Terushima cuts him off right then and there, lifting his chin to look him in the eyes. “You did nothing wrong. And here's a fun fact, I have yet to meet someone in this art deal that didn't run into a few loose screws here or there in their life time. It's just how this thing goes.” _Unfortunately._ “Miya's a special case. I know how much bullshit he can pull off and if they were to ask me, I would still say he deserves to vent. He can get under your skin without trying all too hard. Don't let him get to you. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“But if you still have doubts, talk to Iwaizumi. He'll help you. He's helped me stay sane more times than I'd like to admit. Or talk to whomever you're comfortable with. Just don't keep this in. Trust me on that.”

“...okay.”

 

Terushima closes the doors as Kageyama lies down, groaning out, feeling really heavy.

He’s about to call it a day, too, when his phone buzzes.

“Terushima, who’s disturbing.”

“ _Oh, I forgot to ask, I think I shot his boyfriend, not sure, would you check up on that and also, do you think I should tell Kageyama that, because I was thinking it’d be rude if he found that out form someone else._ ” He hears Miya rant out, most likely munching on salt sticks or the like.

_Excuse you, what the what he did what how why are you_

“ _Under no circumstances are you going to tell him that!_ ” He shrills in a high pitched voice, so fucking done with life.

“ _But-_ ”

“You say another word and I’ll break you neck. Is that clear?”

“ _Alright. My, Terushima, you should drink more calcium, the stress is going to kill you._ ” Miya says, shrugging. “ _But do check up on Kyoutani as well, okay? Bye!_ ”

_Sweet baby Jesus._

He’s more than ready to blow that fucker up for this but he has no time for that. _Oh, I shot his boyfriend, ups, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!_

You know what, sorry Iwaizumi, but he’s about done, fuck it.

Kyoutani answers the phone after the second ring and Terushima needs a second to gather himself.

“Yo, you alright?” he asks, nervous as fuck.

“ _Yeah, I’m fine._ ”

Oh, he’s fine, great, that’s a relief-

“ _Please tell me Miya didn’t kill that guy, I swear to God I will murder his damn ass in his sleep._ ” He asks, desperation drowning him.

“ _No, he’s fine. We do owe him a camera worth some 65,000 euro’s, though._ ”

...

“Oh, thank God.” Terushima folds himself down on the floor, feeling pretty much boneless.

He’s alive, there is a God, thank you, he’ll buy him ten of those, he’s alive, yay.

“ _Also…_ ” He hears Kyoutani say, albeit hesitantly.

_Oh, no._

“What?”

“ _The guy he shot…_ ”

“Don’t do this to me Kyoutani. Just spill it.”

“ _He’s the friend Yamaguchi mentioned._ ”

 

Terushima swears he experienced both brain and heart death at the same time.

 

“So can someone explain to me how Kageyama ended up over by Miya Atsumu this time around?” Hanamaki asks, standing by the door, not exactly happy with this turn of events. 

How he flew in that fast upon the news was something everyone wanted to know but no one cared to ask. Tsukishima could sswear he saw him coming out of a closet there.

“They met back in college.” Sakusa says, adjusting the bandage over the cut.

Hanamaki made a pained sound at that. Apparently, he just heard too much.

“Miya thought it funny to mess with his head back then and I thought it not.” Sakusa adds, checking Tsukishima's ribs for cracks.

Hanamaki offered him his deepest condolences, making a mental note to drag that kid right over to Iwaizumi once they get him out of that mess.

The thing between Sakusa and Miya was a well-known open secret but to think Kageyama found himself in that crossfire... Well, sucks to be Miya at this point in time because now neither he nor Matsukawa and Sugawara nor even Iwaizumi for that matter, had to mind their manners.

“How are you?” Hanamaki turns to Tsukishima, inspecting his shot to death camera. _In every sense and meaning._

“…would it be _really bad_ for me to tell you this is _not_ the worst situation I've been through?” He asks, not sure how Hanamaki would take it.

“...would it be a _really bad time_ for me to tell you that I'm more worried about Kageyama's reaction if you decided to call it off right here because I, and he, most definitely, completely understand if you do?”

“Nope.”

“Then no. I'm guessing you were in India, then, at the same time those riots began, right?”

“Yep.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you. 

Having that in the clear, Hanamaki turned his attention back to Sakusa, who was clearly amused by their little exchange.

“ _So where do we find him?_ ”

 

Later that evening, Hanamaki joins Tsukishima on the balcony, coat tightly around him.

“...why didn't he-”

“-let you cover for him?” Hanamaki finishes for him. “Not happening, sorry. That would be against his nature.” And someone else's he knows. He offers Tsukishima a stretch of his lips.

“I'm not sure of your experiences, but how to handle crisis situations has more or less been drilled into him since he could probably walk. Besides, Kageyama unfortunately knows this guy and if he thought, which he probably did, that he had better chances going there instead of allowing them the slightest excuse to take you with them, we'll have to trust his decision on that.”

“Yeah, his sixth sense is usually right with that. I feel so undefined thinking about it.”

“We all do.” Hanamaki says. “But it's...Kageyama. I can't bring myself to feel worried to the point of how worried I should be, considering all of this.”

“And don't think for a second any of us blame you.” He adds, looking at Tsukishima. “You're in one piece, that's the most we could ever ask for.”

“I'm aware of that.” Tsukishima says. “I just hope he doesn't go thinking that he's too much trouble for me. I think I'd lose it.”

 

_Because what's a few stray bullets between them, anyway?_


	42. Pulling threads

“So let me get this straight.” Hanamaki begins, with the widest smile on his face anyone in the room consisting of Matsukawa, Sugawara, Tsukishima, Sakusa and Iwaizumi had ever seen on his face.

“You two had this petty little fight over Kageyama-kun and basically he's jealous?”

They're in the guest apartment Sakusa offered Kageyama once upon a time, all gathered to Sakusa's immense dislike. He secured the whole sofa lest someone gets the idea of being too comfortable. Tsukishima, the only one present that isn't on his list for existing right now, is by the window, leaned against the wall, looking out on the street covered in freshly fallen snow.

Iwaizumi stands behind Hanamaki, who sits on the armchair divided with a coffee table from Sakusa and is thinking about some other things, not exactly paying immediate attention to the half conversation playing out with Sugawara and Matsukawa by the table opposite of all of them. Kyoutani left the room to check on his bruises before Iwaizumi got there, so they more or less all waited for him to work this thing out.

“That sums it up quite nicely.” Sakusa says, impassively, borderline bored as he lounges on his couch, tying away on his phone.

“So what's your plan of action here?”

“Nothing much.”

“Nothing much?” Hanamaki blinks.

“Yep.” Sakusa says, not lifting his gaze from the screen.

“...are you serious?”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“You're leaving him with nutcase over there, so forgive me if I assume so.”

“...why are you lot even here?” Sakusa asks, turning his attention to Hanamaki with a raised brow and _seriously-get-out-and-go-home-you're-annoying_ look and Tsukishima has to suppress a laugh. Apparently, he's only nice and civilised in front of Kageyama. Now confirmed. Stamp and all.

“How _is_ Oikawa taking this?” Hanamaki turns to Iwaizumi, who's standing behind him.

“Panicking but relieved he wasn't at fault this time.” Iwaizumi says.

_Which he technically partially was, seeing how he pestered him into art school, but let's not debate over that one right now._

There's a knock on the door and Kyoutani steps in.

“Uh, Kyoutani.” Iwaizumi starts. “What happened to your face?”

“Kageyama.” He says and there are two grins, two smirks and two sorrowful looks directed at him, but he ignores them and turns his attention to Tsukishima.

“I'm sorry about your camera, I had no idea he'd pull a gun at you.” He says, looking rather embarrassed.

Tsukishima merely shrugs it off.

“How do we approach this matter?”

“Did you get anywhere with this undercover act?” Iwaizumi asks.

“Yeah, but I don't think we can do anything before June 27th.” Kyoutani says. “He's not doing anything illegal, strictly speaking, as there are rarely any charges against him but those few that go up eventually get withdrawn in the span of a few days. Everyone knows he's behind it, but proving is kinda like finding a chicken that lays golden eggs.”

“But, as I said, there might be a window in June. Terushima knows more about it than I.”

“I see.” Iwaizumi nods. “What do you suggest we do?”

“Well, I have no idea what's the story between your Kageyama and those two,” he motions towards Sakusa, “but I would propose making it look like I slipped away so I can get back there as soon as possible – he'll need someone to watch his back in the next negotiations and Terushima will explain everything to Kageyama if he doesn't maim him first so I'll be able to keep an eye on him, too, when Terushima isn't around.”

“If you want Kageyama back, I'll be honest, find someone to kidnap him back because he won't let him go otherwise.”

“How so?”

“He kinda gets this look when he really wants something and the last time I saw it was two years ago in Vienna when I first got into his circle, so, I can't help you with this.”

“...man, I wish I knew who those guys back summer were.” Hanamaki mutters, rubbing his eyes.

 

_Little did he know one of those stood in that very room._

 

“You still sticking with that do nothing plan of yours?” Hanamaki tries one last time that evening.

“Yep.”

“...”

“Let it go, Makki.” Matsukawa says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Out of all of use here, Kyoutani and Sakusa know what's best so I suggest we listen.”

“Well I so happen to not like that plan, Issei.”

“Calm down. Let's take a walk.”

“...fine.”

“I'll join you.” Sugawara says and the three are out the room.

Iwaizumi asks Kyoutani in the kitchen, partly to get some ice for that black spot and newly readjusted nose.

The moment the living room is clear, Tsukishima pulls his phone out, dialling a number.

He might have been on friendly terms with Hanamaki and the rest, but if they still didn't know anything about Kageyama's _summer adventure_ , Kageyama _didn't_ tell them and if _he_ didn't tell them, _Tsukishima_ _sure as hell_ won't be the first to bring _that_ up.

Sakusa seemed to be in a much better mood now that he wasn't surrounded by a bunch of noisy butt-in's and he even eased up on the tone when he spoke up.

“Tell Akaashi to bring me some dried spaghetti.”

“Sure.”

 

Outside, in front of the building, Hanamaki didn't feel one bit better. The snow kept falling, his nose was red from the cold and Sugawara went to get some pastries, refusing to get some of those overly sugared spice thingies for him, that traitor.

Matsukawa arrives from the entry, carrying a cup of tea he fetched from the kitchen that Iwaizumi used to make a few cups.

“Thanks.” He says, smiling slight at the imagined murder glare Sakusa will probably have upon laying his eyes on the cup Iwaizumi will no doubt offer him. He didn't know why, the image just popped up and stuck to him. Man, the people that stick to Kageyama... save Tsukishima, he seems like a decent fellow.

“So what's eating you up?”

“I don't like this situation.”

“Gut feeling?”

“...yeah.”

Never-mind the past trauma, he's never had this heavy sinking feeling like he did now. The fact that he heard all kinds of stories, that might not be true at all, and Iwaizumi telling them about some undercover thing going on regarding that guy, didn't sit all too well with him. Iwaizumi seemed worried a bit, no matter how good he could conceal it, but Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Sugawara we're around long enough to know.

He wasn't telling them things and that didn't sit well with Hanamaki either.

 _Keep your damn secrets_ , he thinks, taking a sip, _I know where you live._

 

When they return inside, they find Kyoutani sitting in front of Tsukishima – the former looking like a sinner in front of the Inquisition and the later putting the Inquisition to shame with that judging look of his.

“...he better know about it.” Tsukishima mutters quietly and the two peeking into the room can feel the intensive burn of his glare, directing unspoken questions to Iwaizumi.

“...we told him everything he wanted to know.” Kyoutani says, a cold sweat running down the back of his neck.

Sugawara came in ten minutes later with two boxes of sugary goods he said he wouldn't get to be greeted by a scene of a pissed off Tsukishima glaring mercilessly at a guilty looking Kyoutani with Hanamaki laughing his ass off.

“...did I miss something?” He asks Matsukawa, seeing how Hanamaki couldn't even breathe. Even Sakusa seemed in a better mood.

“So Kyoutani and Terushima, who are doing on this undercover mission as you know, seems to be involved with Tsukishima's dear friend, if I didn't get that wrong and well... Tsukishima needs a moment to let it all sink in.” Matsukawa says, taking the boxes and putting them on the table, grabbing one from the top.

“...oh.”

Okay, that _is_ funny.

 

“By the way,” Tsukishima says, directed at no one in particular, not once blinking, “I would appreciate if none mentioned to Kageyama that I was shot.”

They all agreed, no problems and went to get some of those sweets that smelled divine, moving to the kitchen and leaving poor Kyoutani to simmer under Tsukishima's glare some more.

_God, why? Why did their boss have to shoot at the best friend of their boyfriend, all the bullshit they've been through and this is the thanks they get? Miya, you utter asshole. See if Kyoutani cares if you get your ass shot the next time you pull a stunt. What if Tsukishima calls Yamaguchi and Yamaguchi – sweet Yamaguchi – gets that disappointed look and shit, Kyoutani can feel his heart break already, he ends up dumping them but fuck that, he really doesn't want to see him sad._

Then the moment passes and Tsukishima lets up.

“...when Yamaguchi introduces us formally, you and that other one better not know my face.” He says, quietly, to Kyoutani's immense surprise.

“Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

Tsukishima seems quite happy with that answer and he gets up from the chair, bringing it back to the table.

“...you for some cinnamon gingerbread's?”

“...sure.”

 

At some ungodly hour, Kyoutani leaves, followed shortly by all of them, each heading in their own direction, Sugawara, Hanamaki and Matsukawa to Kageyama's place, Sakusa to his and Tsukishima dragging his feet across his own home sweet home until he just plops down on the couch. It's a bit chilly in his living room, no wonder, really, seeing it was nearly four in the morning when he bothered to check the time, but that wasn't what bothered him.

He can now fully sympathise with Hanamaki and the rest of them and how they must have felt last summer. Not quite, seeing how there is a thread of worry behind that light tone.

_He was an idiot._

He was also extremely lucky that his camera took the bullet instead of his bones and tissue. True, the camera will either undergo repairs or be replaced – he really can't bother with that now. What worried him was Kageyama.

Kyoutani gave them all possible addresses they might be the next few days, maximum two weeks, which he then passed over to Akaashi. Bokuto and Kuroo managed to snatch Kageyama away once before, they could certainly pull it off again.

 

_They better pull it off._

 

_He's not leaving Kageyama anywhere near that guy for longer than necessary if he can help it._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are closing in, wish me luck.


	43. Beyond repair?

So maybe being an ass wasn't the best idea and threatening people into coming with you also wasn't the best idea he's ever had, but he did get what he wanted – sort of.

Truth is, Miya never learnt how to ask for things politely – or maybe he did, once upon a time – and seeing his guest keeping away from him with the silent treatment going on full speed ahead while he reads something out of Miya's vast collection on art books and other literature as well – some of them being there because the cover looks great – he begins to think that _maybe an apology_ is in order.

That only gets him a cold stare and a raised brow with the most sceptical look he's ever seen someone have in his life.

He ignores Terushima trying, really trying, not to laugh at his poor attempts of reconciling.

_Thankfully, he decided to_ listen for once _and_ not _tell Kageyama about the bullet accident._

But seeing Miya all fidgety and really trying to start a conversation that doesn't get shut down immediately was  _fucking priceless_ .

 

_“I admit I could have asked politely-”_

_“Oh, do you?”_

_“-and I realise that this is not going well-”_

_“How sad.”_

_“-...”_

 

So Kageyama could be really difficult when he wanted to, that was new in his book and trying to get past it was proving more of a challenge than Miya thought it would be.

“...could you please stop being Sakusa for a moment?” Miya asks, brow twitching.

“No.”

He even got the impassive Sakusa look.

_Oh, for the love of..._

Eventually, though, Miya does chase Terushima out of the room, fed up with him dying in the corner whenever he tries to speak up.

“ _I am sorry for my behaviour but I'm really trying, so please work with me here._ ” Miya drones out exasperated. He _knew_ he shouldn't have let him hang around Sakusa all that time. It clearly rubbed off on him. But that was Miya's mistake.

As luck would have it, this one wasn't as much of an ass as Sakusa could be, so he let up pretty quick, that hard cold stare softening up a bit.

“What do you want?”

“...why do you assume I want something?”

“You always did.”

“...” _Yeah, okay, that was true, but still._

“...there's a work I'd like for you to look at.” He says in the end, eyes trained on him.

“...just that?” Kageyama asks, suspicious.

“Yes.” Miya smiles. “Just that.”

Of course it's not just that. Why spoil the fun right from the start? He's got the chance he wanted for a long time, why not make most of it? Sakusa and the rest can wait a bit. Patience is a virtue or some shit like that.

“How's your cheek?” Miya asks, sitting down at the opposite end of Kageyama.

“Better.” Kageyama replies, poking a bit at it.

“I'm glad.” He may be an ass but that doesn't mean he didn't feel a bit guilty over that purple spot on his face. “How's that book?”

“I like it.” Kageyama replies easily and Miya is again reminded of their art school days. He's quick to anger and even quicker to calm down. That much didn't change from those days.

“Haven't had much time to read with work going on.”

“...you should take a break here and there, you know. Your own advice.” Miya raises a brow, amused. “The thing I want you to take a look at will be here in a few days. Think they'll make it that long?”

“...I have no idea. Depends on who takes charge.”

Always so honest, too.

“Though, the next time someone intends to kidnap me, I won't have regards on who they might be.” Kageyama concludes after a thought.

“...next time?”

“I was kidnapped last summer, too.”

“...by whom?!” Miya asks, incredulous.

“No clue. Didn't last long, though, it ended up a mix up.” Kageyama merely shrugs, returning to his book.

...oh, boy. What has this kid been up to last summer?

“...wait a minute.” Miya begins, unsure he got it right. “Last summer? That wouldn't be the case in Rome, would it?”

“Yeah, that's the one.”

“You...”

“They were really nice, despite getting the wrong one.”

“...you are sure relaxed about that one, aren't you?”

“It was an eventful summer.”

…

_He takes back everything he ever said about him being a goodie two shoes back in the day. That is one mistake he'll never make again._

 

Back at the Rijksmuseum, Akaashi's rubbing his forehead, looking like he'll need at least a week of sleep, with Bokuto and Kuroo sitting quietly in the corner of Sakusa's work lab.

“So...we leave him there for a few days and then bust him out?” He sums it up quite nicely as Sakusa inspects the tips of his brushes with Tsukishima mixing up the bleach.

“That's the plan.” Sakusa says, putting down the brush in the quality check pass cup.

“Why?”

“Because...” _This one is definitely a goner_ , he thinks, throwing it in the bin, “...Miya is expecting us and him expecting us is counterproductive to the plan.”

_Unless Tobio does his thing and tells him to expect them later._

_What the precious teapot most likely will._

So, given his nature, their best course of action would be – wait and see.

Knowing Miya, though, will get them a phone call in a day or two. Also, wait and see.

And there you have it. The perfect plan.

“Pass me the bleach, thank you.”

“Here you go.” Tsukishima says, handing over two cups.

“Oh, _him_ you'll help but god forbid I tell you to look at a painting.” Akaashi grumbles.

“I have no idea what you're talking about...” Tsukishima chimes, concentrating on an old drawing of a facade. “This is late Renaissance?”

Oh, the look on Akaashi's face.

Bokuto had to reinforce every atom of strength not to start laughing and Kuroo may or may not have taken.

To commemorate the scandalised face of Akaashi Keiji upon discovering Tsukishima Kei's newest interest in art.

 

_A truly remarkable scene._

 


	44. Maybe

“So, what do you think?” Miya asks as he unveils the painting.

“...where did you get this?” Kageyama asks, eyes wide in amazement.

The few days went as smooth as it goes. The blemish on Kageyama's cheek is gone, thankfully.

“I have my sources.” Miya smiles politely.

They're in one of Miya's studios scattered across a few countries and this one in particular was in Luxembourg. Because Miya knows he's never been to that country and getting away from Sakusa's range of influence demanded getting out of the Netherlands.

It's actually hella rude, when he thinks about it, how he's seen as the bad guy (for obvious reasons) but it's actually Sakusa who has the worse personality between them. He dares not think about the idea or the reality if Sakusa went and gone his way.

Oh, how life tends to turn out.

“You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Ushijima-san's recent troubles, would you?” Kageyama asks, quite suddenly, giving him a suspicious look, snapping him from his thoughts.

Miya can't help but blink a few times, completely caught of guard.

“I'm sorry, what troubles?”

“There was a group of people trying to rid him of a few pieces last summer.”

“Oh, the unveiling of that-” Wait a second. “You...were there?”

“Yes.” Kageyama says, getting back to marvel at the one lying on the table.

How did he not know about it?

Come to think of it, there was a complete shut down on Oikawa's side ever since he had issued the order to have one of his works picked up – the Lady in Gray – but Oikawa had more valuable things gone missing and he wasn't that quiet about it. Something else must have happened as well.

Unfortunately, he has no idea who got the job done so he can't ask what happened. It was done by a little group, that is all he knows, but asking around won't get him anywhere, since the group doesn't exactly go with anyone he knows and the ones he could ask wouldn't exactly tell him.

_...he should really start paying attention as to whom he hires._

Because he's now dying to know.

Oikawa isn't that bent on the Lady in Gray – he has far more precious work in his possession and as far as Miya knows, the painting doesn't hold all that much significance to him, either.

Also, Kageyama-kun here.

He'd  _know_ if Oikawa had plans to bring his team on an event like that, so why wasn't he aware of Kageyama-kun being there?

“What horrors do you plan on putting this one through?” Kageyama speaks up, again pulling him from his thoughts.

“Horrors? Kageyama-kun, you wound me.” He replies, faking a hurt expression.

“You hardly have plans to put it up in Sakusa-senpai's museum.” The other states.

That...is very true.

“I haven't given it a thought, to be honest.” Miya says, giving the painting a once over, before he looks at Kageyama again. “Maybe I should just leave it to you.”

“...what?”

“I'm positive you'd take good care of it.” Miya smiles wide.

“Don't be ridiculous.” Kageyama says, a bit stiffly.

“Relax, Kageyama-kun, this one is legally mine and I'm free to give it to whom I will. You don't have to worry about some miserable heir crying over their precious lost heirloom.” The older man waves it off.

“...why would you give something like that?”

“Why not? I do believe Sakusa sent you one.”

“He painted that one himself.”

_He did?_

“So if I made one for you, you'd accept it?”

Kageyama was about to reply, but there was something in that question that made him stop. All he could muster was a very confused look at which Miya only smiled gently.

“My apologies, I am merely messing with you.” He says. “Though, you don't fall for my schemes that easily.”

_You never did._

The confusion on Kageyama's face doesn't lessen one bit at that.

“Pardon the intrusion, but there's a phone call for you, Miya.” Terushima enters the room but falls short on his steps at the two in front of him.

“...is this a bad time?” He asks, glancing at one and then the other.

“Why of course not. Who disturbs?” Miya replies airily, and now Terushima _knows_ he just ruined something. Though, he rather not know what. Even if he has a pretty good idea about it.

“The head of your office in Madrid.”

“About time they called in, good grief.” Miya rolls his eyes, walking past him. “If you would excuse me for a moment.”

_Oh, no._

Miya looked over at Kageyama, who looked very lost there.

“You okay?” He asks.

“I don't get him.” He says rather helplessly.

_Sadly, Terushima thinks he does._

Really, it's not that hard to connect things. Even more so since they're so ridiculously obvious. And Terushima should know, he's been through that shit two times.

_Fuck._

“So, how are you these days?” Terushima opts to ask, mind screaming internally at the impending onslaught of various scenarios that he _really doesn't want to be seeing – not now, not ever._

“Fine, actually. Though this lack of anything to do is making me nervous.” Kageyama says.

“How so?”

“I'm not good with vacation time in general.”

“I think Miya has some crayons around here.” Terushima says, swearing he saw a pack of those somewhere in the building. “If you don't mind, I could get those for you.”

“Thanks. How are things on your end?”

“...as long as you're fine, so are we.” _In all ways and combinations possible._

“I see.” Kageyama smiles slight.

“There's a room upstairs with a balcony if you need some time off.” Terushima offers, ever the attentive person Yamaguchi and Kyoutani needed at times.

“I just might take you up on that offer.”

“Go ahead. I'll come by when I find those crayons.”

Leaving the studio and the painting on the desk, Kageyama took a left turn and Terushima a right one, both going about their day – Terushima to deal with his stuff and to get Kageyama something to do and Kageyama to use some time to think about a few things.

He hasn't heard from anyone in a few days and that only added more to his itchy fingers.

He also had no idea whether they were still in the Netherlands or some-place else – Miya didn't exactly say where they were. He wouldn't put it past Miya to switch countries to get away from Sakusa-senpai – he did that once before, back in college. After a fight.

Which was too bad – he liked when the three of them would spend time together on a project. Neither Miya nor Sakusa-senpai had any problems with interpreting his language – after a few initial tweaks, that is.

Both could be a handful, that was proven on more than one occasion, yet Kageyama still failed to see why they had fallen out so bad.

Those two and their issues aside, there were Oikawa-san, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Sugawara and... _Tsukishima_...who were no doubt less than thrilled to go through Kageyama missing – again.

Though, he did wonder as to why would Miya be after Tsukishima.

That mystery, however, solved itself when Miya actually appeared.

...he could have just called. All that commotion was really unnecessary and he can just imagine Sakusa-senpai's face at the whole mess left behind.

He should know that Kageyama doesn't mind his choice of career – though, that one _does_ sit a bit heavy on him now – it was one thing if one of them, or all, for that matter, because their job came with a specific list of side effects that included stolen art, blood money and whatnot, but another if he was the one to put them in that situation. Not some art work, not some irreplaceable statue or priceless paintings or anything else, but he – Kageyama Tobio – because he just ignored some things about people he _really should be_.

Like that time he got kidnapped by Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san.

Sure, that one went without too many problems, but it still made others worry.

Oikawa-san and the others didn't know he wasn't in any danger – he can't tell them that now either without putting someone else in a tight spot.

And now Miya's idea of inviting people over to...hang out? Talk? What was this anyway?

Never mind the bruise he got in the process, what worried him was... what would Tsukishima think about all this? He put him in unnecessary danger as well. Also, who'd want to deal with someone who gets kidnapped all the time? Well, only two times so far, and the first time the responsible ones were his boyfriends friends, but still.

He had more luck than mind.

Miya wouldn't even let him text anyone, what was up with that?

You know what, either he lets him call someone or he's out of here.

That's final.

Meanwhile, in hos office, Miya feels his nose itch. He's gotten off the phone with the office in Madrid, Terushima informed him of Kageyama's latest whereabouts and asked about crayons, he had nothing else to do until further notice and yet he's still seated by his desk on the other side of the studio.

Sakusa, the damn bastard, has yet to call.

At first, that was great – no interruption in his quality time with his kouhai – _after_ said kouhai calmed down, that is – but the more days passed the more he realised Sakusa got him – again.

It was a trap.

A clever one at that.

Damn you, Sakusa.

Call already, you bastard.

Miya ends up picking up his cellphone after the first ring.

Sure enough, it's the prince of hell himself.

“ _Enjoying yourself?_ ” He asks.

“I fucking hate you.” He sneers into the phone, severely ticked off by his own stupidity.

“ _Likewise._ ”

“I should have known you were up to something the moment you didn't come after me to remove my head from my neck after I took Kageyama.” He mutters.

“ _And spare you the torment you're falling into? I would never._ ” Sakusa says and Miya can see that damn grin sharp enough to make one bleed.

“Seriously, why can't he see you for the demon beast you are?” Miya drones. “Out of us two, you're the evil one.”

“ _I haven't the faintest what you're talking about._ ”

“Oh, please.” Miya rolls his eyes. “I'm not the one who's keeping his beloved kouhai's boyfriend in the dark and letting your college buddy fall into a death trap to prove a point.”

And then something clicks.

“You are seriously abhorrent.” He nearly screeches over the phone. “You're actually leaving him here to make me regret my decision since I'm an idiot, apparently, and were both jealous?"

“Sakusa, how could you. I really expected better from you.”

“ _No, you didn't._ ”

“Yeah, you're right. Who would have thought someone would get to him before either of us did?”

“ _Speak for yourself, I'm just happy he's happy._ ”

“Of course you are.”

“ _If memory serves, Miya Atsumu, you're the one who pouted constantly when Kageyama didn't pay attention to you._ ”

“Well you didn't have to be an ass and keep him to yourself all the time!”

“ _Says the one who tried to mess with his head because he couldn't do that by me._ ”

Whoops.

“ _The way I see it, Miya Atsumu-_ ”

“Would you stop referring to me with both names?”

“ _-is that you wanted to get to me and he beat you to it and you couldn't get over yourself._ ”

Ouch.

“ _And then you screwed yourself over again by letting him get to you as well because you just had to know what was it that spoiled your plans._ ”

“ _What you're doing now isn't any better than what you wanted to do back then._ ”

“Oh, be quiet.”

“ _This time, he's going to get to you just like he got to me._ ”

“No, he won't.”

“ _Uh-uh._ ”

“I can stop this at any time.”

“ _Sure you can._ ”

“Why are we having this conversation, I'm the one with the best cards in hand here.”

“ _Whatever makes you feel better about yourself._ ”

“You're a nightmare.”

“ _Why thank you._ ”

“I hope that boyfriend of his stabs you.”

“ _Senpai's before everyone else, Miya._ ”

“GO STEP ON A LEGO!” Miya yells before throwing his phone through the window with a huff.

 

_He is so infuriating._

 

Said phone hits a certain Terushima in the head outside. He checks the last call and sure enough, it's him. The bane of Miya's existence since the day they met.

Certainly the only one who can make his boss lose his shit and throw a phone through a window.

All in all,

what Terushima knows for a fact is,

 

_he deserves a raise._

 


	45. That mind, brilliant

Oikawa Tooru wasn't one to be punctual when he didn't have to be. He was the boss of his own business, so he got as much leeway as he could and would create for himself, which drove a certain someone up the wall more times than he would like to be aware of.

Though, ever since the newest development of things, one could find him in his office way earlier than expected.  _Not that anyone was there to witness it. Damn them._

He arrived that morning in his office, dealt with the few mails he had until the bigger dealers get back to him about the other stuff and with the latest shipment running smoothly, today was really a breeze.

He pulled out the photo-album Hanamaki got for all of them, containing pictures from their vacation in Rome and the last from Kageyama's birthday.

 

…

 

_It almost made him cry in frustration._

 

Aside the usual things, why was it that only Kageyama got into such mess? Why could they have kidnapped him instead? Was asking for a quiet job for Kageyama to deal with too much? Apparently so, seeing how that kid went through way too much experiences for a restaurateur than it was usually accounted for. Maybe he would fare better if he weren't involved with Oikawa?

( _That stung like a bitch._ )

 _No! He mustn't think that. Shame on him!_ Tobio-chan himself said he was fine. He wasn't the type to agree with anything that didn't sit with him so ha. Suck it Universe, he'll never let go of him.

Unless he asks, that is.

So far he hasn't so ha! Again, Universe.

You'll never take Tobio-chan from him!

The phone buzzing in his pocket startles him out of his imaginative fight with the Universe and he slips from his chair in shock before almost ripping his pants off to get to the damn thing.

“Oikawa speaking!” He shouts, involuntarily, when his heart starts pounding in his ribcage at the caller ID.

“ _Oikawa-san? Kageyama here.”_

_Now this time he did start crying._

“Tobio-chan...” He sniffs, loud, as he wipes at the tears, blowing his nose into a receipt. “How are you? Where are you? Are you okay? What's going on?”

“ _Fine. Don't know. Yes. That's a bit of a longer story but if you don't mind to hear me out, I'll keep it brief._ ”

“Uh, okay?” Oikawa blinks, getting up from the floor in his office and sitting back into his chair as Kageyama starts talking.

Oikawa listens to him in complete silence, eyes growing wide at times, having to bite his own tongue here or there not to interrupt but the last part is what has him falling out his chair – again.

“But-” No, that's not what he wants to ask, Tobio-chan just explained. “...okay. I'll see what I can do.” He then says, softening up a wee bit. “But! Keep your phone with you or I'll track the fucker down and paint my living room in his blood.”

“ _I will, Oikawa-san._ ” He hears Kageyama laugh a bit and it makes him feel all warm around the heart. “ _And thank you._ ”

“...you're welcome, Tobio-chan.” He smiles and the line is cut.

_Oh, thank Heavens, he's fine._

_(Which Oikawa can't guarantee for the one he's with the next time he sees him, but why trouble Tobio-chan with petty details?)_

 

He has time to melt into a puddle later, right now, he has people to call.

 

“Ushiwaka, good morning!” He states as he spins in his chair, all hyped up. “I have a little favour to ask...”

“ _I'm listening._ ” _Is what Ushijima replies and Oikawa's mood just skyrocketed._

 

Back in a certain country house in Luxembourg, Kageyama turns to Miya as he ends his call with his boss. He's happy to hear everything's the usual way with him.

“He'll do it.” Kageyama says and Miya can only nod, rather obedient, still shell shocked by the events starting not two days ago.

_That being the following._

He left Kageyama working on the painting to repair some minor damages seeing how he was nearly bored to death and Terushima asking where the pack of crayons might be for him to use. Terushima stayed with him, completely drawn by the instant working atmosphere the moment Kageyama's fingers wrapped around the brush, muttering something about how'd it be nice if Miya would act – _anyway –_ he's back in his office, thinking of ways to get back at Sakusa for that last call, the curly poodle he is, when a fax arrived Miya didn't see coming.

_At all._

He must have been pretty shocked to have the horror show on his face just as Kageyama came in, with a happy expression that fell off so quick Miya managed to feel guilty in his state over it. Miya didn't have time to do much beside watch Kageyama close the gap between them and take the fax paper from him as if he weren't even there, just watching things unfold from a distance.

“Miya-san...” He heard Kageyama speak from a distance, even though he was standing right there. “Miya-san, calm down. It will be fine.”

“Do you have someone who could confirm this?” Kageyama asks, slowly, voice calm.

“ _...they just did._ ” He barely managed, realisation sinking in, mercilessly, as the words left his mouth.

“Stay here, I'll go get Terushima-san.” Kageyama says as he helps him sit down before hurrying to find the man.

_Damn it, this was not how it was supposed to go._

“What the-” Terushima walks in, smeared in paint. “So it isn't a mistake?”

Miya looks up to him, expression dark.

“No.”

“...crap.” Terushima sighs, wiping the smear off his cheek. “I'll get in contact with Kyoutani and the rest, call if they contact you again.”

The man left the office in a hurry, and both could hear him talking on the phone not a few seconds after.

A few minutes pass in complete silence, Miya wrecking his mind to think of something, but it remains blank. Only then he realises Kageyama was still there, sitting quietly next to him. He offers a weak smile at him.

“I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to find out...”

“...that someone took Osamu-san?” Kageyama finishes for him, raising a brow. The man never felt so small in his life.

“Miya-san, what happened?” The younger of the two asks and it's something in his tone that Miya can't ignore. So why bother? He wouldn't use this situation, even now, when he can.

“As far as the knowledge goes, Osamu is back home, on vacation.” Miya says, leaning against the seat. “He was doing some business for the family, which I told him to leave to me. He didn't listen, telling me he was in the town any ways, and the next word I know was that his guard was hospitalised and he was nowhere to be found. I started searching for him and came up with nothing until the first message arrived. They informed me they had my brother and the usual stuff, telling me they would contact me with the terms.”

“A month passed and I sent out a few of my agents to see if this was true. This is the first word I got about Osamu.”

The fax stated he was fine, but the agent couldn't reach him without putting him in danger.

“Do you know anything about the ones that have him?” Kageyama asks.

“Some extremist group. Osamu is smart, he won't put himself in unnecessary danger, but I can't know when or if they will completely change their mind.”

Just as he finished his sentence, another fax came it. Kageyama was the one to fetch it, reading the message.

“...clever.” He says, gaze sharp. “Miya-san, they've sent the terms.” He informs the man.

“What do they want?” Miya asks, relief washing over him.

“...something I can help you with.” He says, a small smile playing at his lips with a mischief glinting behind those deep blue irises.

_Miya is left speechless._

 

Miya is still half speechless two days after, as Kageyama and Terushima more or less take over the whole thing, leaving Miya enough time to try and wrap this whole situation around his head. It's futile, to say the least.

He understands nothing, really.

As to why Kageyama would go out of his way to help him out like this, since he's done nothing but cause trouble and add kerosene to the flames between Sakusa and him for that. Then again, it's Kageyama. He never made much sense to him, in the first place. Which made him all the more fascinating to be around with.

Kageyama, on the other hand, as he leaves Miya in Terushima's care, is pacing around the room with the balcony he had at his disposal for the time being.

Calling Oikawa-san was the better move, seeing how time was of the essence here. He was, after all, kind of an expert in this department. Oikawa wouldn't ask too many questions Kageyama really can't answer right now, unlike some other people he knew would. Speaking of whom, he should be calling them as well for this.

He was about to dial the first number, hoping they would be at least a fraction of understanding as Oikawa-san was, when he hears a weird sound behind him.

_Kind of like someone threw pebbles against the glass._

Which, incidentally, they did.

Kageyama opened the balcony door and sure enough, two familiar faces greeted him as they climbed over the railings.

“Hey there, kid.” Bokuto grins wide.

“Hello.” Kuroo adds, tilting his head with a smile.

“We've come to pick you up.” Bokuto begins, seeing how confused they made him.

“Orders from yours truly.” Kuroo adds, with a wink.

_That_ certainly coaxes out a small smile from him, but he's quick to glance around and pull the two inside before the ones making rounds discover them.

“Thanks, guys, but I really can't leave now.” He says as he closes the balcony doors, pulling the curtains on them, now throwing the duo into a loop.

“...huh?”

“Why not?” Bokuto asks, genuinely curious, making Kuroo bleach.

“There's...uh...kind of a situation here.” Kageyama explains, but not so much.

Now Kuroo steps in.

“Uh, Kageyama, honey, there is no situation here that would require you present. There, however, _will_ be a situation if the two of us go back without you.” He says, motioning to the first window on his right.

“I know. That's why I have something to ask of you.”

Both Kuroo and Bokuto blink at him before sharing a look and Kuroo knows the moment he meets those eyes of his partner in crime and otherwise that any reason he has will be lost because Bokuto  _really_ wants to hear the kid out.

“ _So what can we do for you?” Bokuto asks, practically beaming with excitement._

Sitting on the first train to Luxembourg is not how Tsukishima pictured this to go, but he can't exactly complain. With him are Akaashi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Sugawara. Iwaizumi went about something Oikawa had called and asked him to, though he did not elaborate what that thing was. Sakusa would join them all, but later.

Matsukawa was reading the earlies edition of the newspaper he could find on that short notice, with Hanamaki using his shoulder as a pillow and Sugawara his. Akaashi didn't stop tying at his phone since they got the instructions to _please travel to Luxembourg, here's the address_ from the cat-owl duo.

His urge to stab someone in the face had died down after the initial two or three sent messages, but Tsukishima still wouldn't disturb his chatting over the app.

There were questions, of course, but those could wait. Seeing how Akaashi's mood became less suffocating for those around him, more or less the majority was explained to his satisfaction.

 

_What he really wanted now was to see Kageyama._

 

_Given enough time, he would do exactly that._

 


	46. Good old days, as they say

This was a rather familiar sight – at least to Kageyama, that is.

 

The two of his senpai's sitting across each other on the verge of one stabbing the other. Good old days.

“Sakusa-senpai.” He states, rubbing his eyes, finding this quite ridiculous. “It's not his fault his brother got in trouble.”

The look on Sakusa's face has a whole other story to tell, but he remains silent.

“And if we're talking about what happened in art school, I didn't get what he was trying so no real harm done, anyway.”

“That still doesn't excuse it.” Sakusa turns to him, way more docile than he is when he's not looking at Miya. “He kidnapped you.”

“Fair point but he doesn't know what else to do.” Kageyama shot, trying to get his stubborn senpai to cooperate.

_Miya still felt a bit of a sting in the heart there._

“He has a phone.”

“So do you, and you sent a painting instead.”

“Why use a phone when I can paint?”

“Well if I have to be kidnapped, better it's someone I know. _This time around._ ” He adds, oh so smoothly.

“...”

 

_No one can argue with that one._

 

Hanamaki's in the corner, munching on popcorn. Matsukawa's also enjoying the scene. Sugawara's filming it in secret to show it to Oikawa and Iwaizumi back home.

Bokuto and Kuroo are outside the room – the less they hear, the better, while Akaashi is highly impressed by the mosaic decorating one wall.

Tsukishima's on the balcony connected to the room the whole episode was going on, listening to some music on his phone.

_Their arrival wasn't anything dramatic, save that little detail when Sakusa threw a damn scalpel at Miya the moment he stepped foot inside his place, upon visual contact. Miya ducked like a pro, before running the opposite way._

“ _It's not what you think!” Miya shouts through a closed door, but Sakusa doesn't really care – there's another door._

“ _I've heard that one before.” Comes the eerily calm reply as he walks through the open door waving at Miya._

“ _...can we talk about this?”_

“ _Nope.”_

“ _Sakusa-senpai. Miya-san. We've been through this. Behave.” They hear Kageyama from the entrance, sounding quite exasperated._

_Hanamaki's first to lose it, dissolving in giggles._

 

Hence their current positions around the place.

 

Whatever that initial display was, it seemed to be a common occurrence between them, going by how Kageyama reacted.

“Can we please focus on the issue at hand?” Kageyama asks, not impressed.

There's a certain tone in his voice that makes the two ease up a bit – or at least Sakusa.

“We could bust the guy out.” Bokuto says as they gather in the room. “I know a few people in the vicinity of that area.”

“Those are the guys responsible for quite a few messes last year, although the lack of evidence is getting in the way to get them.” Kuroo adds, looking at the few photos. “Most of the time those guns are for show.”

_...most of the time._

“It would definitely be easier if we could arrange a meeting with them, lure them out a bit. No one holds a negotiation where they keep the valuables.” Akaashi says.

“Empty the base? Neat idea.” Hanamaki chimes in. “But I doubt a group like them would want anyone beside Miya here. The less unknown faces they see, the better.”

“None of us is exactly unknown here.” Matsukawa tosses in, while playing chess with Sugawara.

“Would a backup be useful here or more of a set back?” Sugawara asks as he moves one of his rooks to get the knight on Matsukawa's side.

“I don't like messes.” Sakusa mutters, frowning slight.

_Of course not, you'd rather just poison them all and be done with it,_ is what crosses Miya's mind but he remains silent.

There's enough scalpel marks on the walls as it is.

“If that's so, we suggest you lay back for a few days and let us handle this.” Bokuto grins. “I'll call the guys and get back to you once we got a solid plan ready.”

“Who do you need there?"

“The more bright ideas the better.”

“So that means everyone save Sakusa, Kageyama, Tsukishima and Miya, because reasons.”

_God forbid Kageyama ended up in another situation._

_Sakusa and Miya had things to work out, obviously._

_Tsukishima had a few things to sort out._

The general plan was set. Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Sugawara took their chance to examine Kageyama just in case, happy he was alright, chatting a bit.  _Talk about trusting._

But there is something gnawing at Bokuto as they start moving out. Then it occurs to him.

“...uh, guys, weren't there two other with Miya?”

“Nah, one's Iwaizumi's and the other's fed up with this shit.” Hanamaki adds as he passes by, jumping into the front seat, calling shotgun.

“Oh. Okay then.” Bokuto grins as he follows, looking forward to see some old friends. Two cars in total left the premises.

 

Up on the balcony, half hidden by the shadows, Tsukishima listened to his playlist until it was over, removing the earphones as the last song felt silent.

The air was crisp outside, but he didn't mind.

He had several ideas dancing around in his mind since they got in the car, but all sort of died down. Still, he'll need to talk to Kageyama. There's one question he'd like for them to clear. Unfortunately, the brief eye contact when they arrived was all he could get since his three... _whatever they were at this point, he forgot to ask_... surrounded him on sight.

He moves from the balcony at the next onslaught of chilly wind, not keen on getting sick later. He finds Kageyama sitting on the spot where he had last seen him, mulling something over in his head, making interesting faces as he does.

_It's rather cute._

“Am I disturbing?” He asks as he leans over the back of the sofa, meeting his eyes.

“No, not at all.”

“...can we talk?”

“...sure?”

And for all his gift of speech, Tsukishima doesn't find the right words to start this, as he sits down next to him. He can't really form a proper sentence and not sound...

“Is it about what happened?” Kageyama breaks the silence in a soft voice.

It helps.

“Kinda.” Tsukishima says. “I spoke with Hanamaki and he told me why you would jump in to cover for me but I still can't say I'm happy with that. Grateful, yes, even flattered in a weird sense, but I would like if you wouldn't put yourself out there.”

“I know you got the know how to handle situations like that, but...”

Kageyama entwined their finger together, holding it comfortably tight.

“I know. I just couldn't risk you getting hurt. I'm sorry for being so reckless.”

They sit like that in a comfortable silence, until Tsukishima stirs a bit. Unsure how to state this one, but to hell with it.

 

“ _You're not gonna break up with me because you think you'd be too much for me to handle, right?_ ” He asks, really hopeful.

“ _...Only if you really don't think I'm too much trouble and dump me for that._ ” Kageyama replies, equally hopeful.

“ _Nah. We kinda started this kidnap Kageyama trend, so..._ ”

 

Kageyama lets out a tiny snort before they both start laughing at that.

 

“But, I have to ask.” Tsukishima begins as they calm down. “Do you have any more acquaintances that might want to kidnap you at some point?”

“...not that I can think of.” Kageyama smiles. “But if I remember anyone, I'll tell you.”

“I'd really appreciate that.”

_You and a whole list of other people,_ Kageyama thinks, but eases up a bit and leans his head on Tsukishima's shoulder.

 

“ _...I really missed you_.” The raven mutters lightly.

“ _I missed you, too. Glad you're okay._ ” Tsukishima replies, running his fingers through his hair before stopping and leaning in for a kiss.

 

_A slight brush of lips._

_But Kageyama has a bit different plans._

_Pulling Tsukishima by the front of his shirt for more._

 

_And who's Tsukishima to deny that request?_

 


	47. Could have gone better

To think, he went through so much trouble to end up having Kageyama Tobio basically deal with his mess. Sort of.

Osamu getting in trouble was really an unforeseen event, and while he was grateful for Kageyama's help, he really couldn't get his head wrapped around the absurdness this whole thing had become.

Here he is, plotting how to get his hands on him one day and the next thing he knows, Sakusa and a whole list of other people are at his door, planning out how to get his brother out of the kidnapping mess.

 

_Then again, it's Kageyama Tobio._

_He should have known better._

 

Though, being in the same room as Sakusa and not having to look out for sharp flying objects _is_ new. Miya occupies the seat at his desk in the study – as far away from anyone he can muster to rethink a few, save Sakusa making use of an antique lamp and its light in the corner by the window.

“Give it up, Miya.” Sakusa says, inspecting the damage on his tools, no doubt blaming _Miya's walls_ for it.

“Oh, shut up.” Miya replies, scoffing. He's really not in the mood.

He had hoped for a little bit of time alone with his beloved trouble inviting kouhai, maybe finish what he started in art school, and get through to him, this time around.

Alas, no such luck.

Osamu takes priority.

Which he'll be paying him back, obviously.

The silence stretching between them only serves to grate on Miya's nerves better.

“ _...why is it always you?_ ” He mutters, not caring if the poodle heard him or not.

“You tend to twist and turn people inside out.” The curly mutt heard him, of course, with that impeccable hearing of his.

“All you needed to do is to let him come to you.” He then adds, surprising Miya.

_What the..._

“Are you saying he would have accepted that?” Miya asks, highly doubtful.

The impassive stare Sakusa can muster really is picture worthy.

“ _Hasn't he already?_ ”

“...”

“Or do you seriously believe he'd go to that much trouble for you if he hadn't?”

Point made.

“Yes, Goodie-two-shoes is a case of his own.” He admits, leaning back into his chair. “Could have finally managed to get through his defences hadn't you shown up.”

“Stolen him from under Oikawa's nose, taken him away from you, now that would have been a job well done.” Miya lists, getting that daydreaming look.

“No, seriously, picture him by my side. I could weep.” It truly was a beautiful scene.

“...still not over me, are you?” Sakusa asks, ignoring his glare.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Yes, absolutely, that's why you stirred trouble to get my attention and almost turned permanently green of jealousy when Kageyama showed up.”

“And then you screwed yourself over by falling for his charm.” He adds a bit more salt to the wound.

“How the fuck am _I,_ ” Miya points at himself, “the bad guy here?”

“You're kind of on the not so legal side of this trade.”

“Beside the point, Sakusa.”

“You're cute when you're pissed, you know.”

“ _Don't make me toss this cross at you._ ”

“Hardly. That's a thirteen century piece.”

“Fine, I'll just hit you with this 2015 edition of the Bible instead.”

“No, you won't.”

Also true, but he's really irked right now to say anything. So he doesn't.

“...just as you won't get to corrupt him.” Sakusa adds, wrapping up his tools.

“We shall see.” Miya bites.

“That's one thing you can trust me about.”

“Can I?”

“He's changed.” The curly headed restaurateur states simply. “He's no longer the one he used to be in art school. Don't think that this little stunt you've pulled means he's easy to deal with.”

“I've noticed.” Miya scoffs, dryly. “I blame you solely for that.”

“Flattered, but I'm not the reason.”

“Then who?” He asks, genuinely surprised.

“I believe he's name is Tsukishima.”

“What? That guy?” He blinks. “He seriously chose him over you?”

“...the hell are you talking about?”

“...uh...”

_Well, shit. He did not think this one through._

“...you seriously thought that kind of thing was going on? You?”

“I ain't the only one, honey.” Miya rolls his eyes, annoyed.

“...seriously?”

“Yes. I believe some rumours are still going around the corridors back there.”

“Fascinating.”

“Well, now that we got some things clear, I want to corrupt him even more now.”

“Try, I'm not the only one you'll have to deal with.”

“Let's face it, Sakusa, between you and them, I consider you the greater threat.”

“While that may be true, I don't think you'll get very far.”

“Like I said. We'll see.” He repeats, turning his chair to look out the window.

 

_The moment Osamu's out of harms way, he can proceed with his initial plan._

 

_Though, having heard what he heard, things just might get even more fun._

 


	48. A different approach

Bokuto and Kuroo can be really efficient when they take matters seriously, or, rather, Bokuto can. Akaashi being there certainly did the trick, for Bokuto couldn't pass up the chance to show off a bit. Not that Kuroo can say anything against it – he and the owl are constantly on the move, the two of them, and Akaashi has the decent job to take care of, too.

Seeing them stand by the plans of the building, Akaashi listening to Bokuto elaborate the plan and course of action, with the later sneaking an arm around Akaashi's waist while at it, he can't help but smile.

Bokuto was an irreparable romantic. Last minor thing they did together, Bokuto showed up with a flower that he stuck in Kuroo's hair.

Since it's been all work and no play lately, Kuroo had been thinking of taking them both somewhere to kick back and relax.

In the neighbouring room, busy with making a ton of coffee are Kageyama's bunch – Matsukawa, Hanamaki and Sugawara.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa seem to be discussing something on Matsukawa's phone – though Sugawara doesn't pay much attention. He's on his own phone, busy with messaging of his own.

He doesn't escape Hanamaki's ever attentive eye.

“How's fireman doing?” He asks, sitting next to Sugawara with a mug.

“Fine. I promised we'd go on a date as soon as I get back.”

“That's nice.” Hanamaki grins. “How's he taking you flying around the globe on whims?”

“The same as I take his cancellations of our dates when he's stuck at work.” Sugawara smiles as he puts down the phone and takes a sip of his coffee.

“So do you have it?” The white haired male asks.

“Yup.” Hanamaki says, taking out a list from his coat.

“Everyone who knows Kageyama. The red one's could be potential kidnappers.”

“...this whole page is red.”

“I know. That's why we're avoiding that particular country.”

“Oh.”

“Which brings me to another thought. How about we ask the kid how he feels about visiting the middle east this summer?”

“That's a great idea.”

“He always wanted to visit the Holy city.”

“We could arrange that.”

“Only this time, we'll bring back up.”

“Agreed.”

“What are you two talking about?” Matsukawa joins them at the table as they wait for a call from the squad deployed by a guy who knows Bokuto and owes him a favour.

“Where to spend our next vacation.”

“And what did you decide?”

“The middle east. The Holy city would be nice.”

“Man, we haven't been there in ages.”

“I know, right?”

“Hey, guys, we're out in ten, okay?” Bokuto peeks through the door to inform them. “And thanks for the coffee. Mind if I get the recipe?”

“Not at all.” Hanamaki says.

“By the way, thanks for your help with the plans.” Bokuto leans against the door frame, sipping some coffee from his mug. “Never would have thought you'd have access to a copy of that building plan.”

“It's nothing, really.” Hanamaki waves a hand. “We've been working on a project around here six years ago and the papers were left with us.”

“Neat.”

“So what's the plan of action?”

“We get to the meeting point, wait for that strict looking fellow to show up with the goods, walk in and exchange pleasantries and walk out. If no one starts any funny business.”

“...say, wouldn't it be better if they asked for diamonds instead?” Matsukawa asks.

“What?”

“Well, first, as far as I know, in their line of business, dealing with paintings is kind of risky and takes time. It would be far better and easier if they demanded a few millions worth in diamonds or something equally hard to trace and easy to trade.”

“True, but they might be a few hired hands from deeper waters.” Akaashi adds as he comes to the kitchen of the tiny apartment they're using as a sort of base for the time being.

“If that's the case, it's for the anti-terrorist and Interpol to deal with. I just want this over and done with.”

“Akaashi, the guys out there are both.” Bokuto adds. “That's one of my buddies from when I enrolled in the army for six months.”

“He is? Didn't know he switched to this fraction.”

“Neither did I, but he was glad he could help out. Some wise guys made a mess of his home-town and now he's happy to bring down any and every wise-ass who thinks guns are fun.”

Useful.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we head out in two.” Kuroo says as he leaves the mug in the sink. “The sooner we're done with this, the sooner I get my beauty sleep.”

“Fair. We're on standby with Iwaizumi in case you need a helping hand.”

“We appreciate it.” Bokuto and Kuroo smile.

_Thankful they weren't on their bad side and to Kageyama for not saying anything about the incident back in Italy._

Iwaizumi arrived with a package at the designated meeting point about ten minutes earlier. Killing the engine, he checked his phone and switched it on silent mode.

Good grief.

Hopefully everything goes smoothly with this exchange. He doesn't want things to become unnecessarily messy.

He got out of the car, greeted by Hanamaki and one of those people Bokuto knew.

“Evening, Iwaizumi. Who would have known we'd be in this sort of thing?” Hanamaki grins, the snowflakes slowly piling up on his shoulders and beanie.

“Tell me about it.” Iwaizumi returns a smile. No matter how he looked at it, it was kind of ridiculous.

“ _You still have that list, don't you?_ ”

“ _Alphabetically ordered._ ”

“Good.”

“ _But before we go in, how do you feel about visiting the middle east?”_

“ _...seriously?”_

 

Now, when one agrees to exchange something for a hostage, one has to count on a few things. One, the exchange goes smoothly and each get their own. Two, the exchange doesn't go smoothly and everything goes to shit.

When option number two seems more likely, Iwaizumi and co-operants have at least a few backup plans in their left pocket with thee on the side in their right.

Glancing on his watch, Iwaizumi calculated the four left behind in Miya's residence should have made it to their spots.

On the roof of a neighbouring building stood Sakusa and Tsukishima, each on the look out for a guard. The moment those two on the second floor of the half abandoned building crossed their paths and went the opposite way, the two disappeared into the shadows and slipped past the alarms with ease. Their goal was to reach the most likely place the power supply would be.

Kageyama and Terushima went from the back, sending Miya to the front of the exchange.

“You sure we can use this way?” Terushima asks, looking rather sceptically at the bare walls surrounding them.

“These were made to stand.” Kageyama says.

“If you say so.”

If memory served him correct, Iwaizumi mentioned somewhere around here being a room that could be where Osamu-san is. As long as there aren't too many guards down, they should be fine.

“You'll have to careful, the echo might be loud.” Kageyama says before they walk in.

“Lead the way.”

The corridors were a little maze, but Kageyama had no trouble finding his way. He'd stop at one or two occasions to pick the right path, but soon they heard muffled voices around a corner.

Terushima picked up a piece of concrete, throwing it somewhere far into the dark.

One of the guards went to check it out, leaving the other one alone. Terushima moved in silently, knocking out the guard left behind, signalling Kageyama it was safe to approach.

“I'll deal with the one returning soon, too, you go and check if he's really there.” Terushima says, following after the other guard.

Kageyama then noticed the guard here didn't have any keys on him.

No need to worry, though, if there was one thing he learned from the people he worked with, it was how to unlock a door at any given moment, amongst other things.

Which he did.

“...the hell did he do this time?” Osamu mutters as he lifts his head the sound of the doors opening, meeting Kageyama eye to eye.

“Nothing you should worry about.” Kageyama offers a small smile, reaching his hand out.

“Good to see you Osamu-san, how have you been?”

The other accepts and they shake hands.

“Could have been better.” He admits, standing up, dusting off his dress pants. “So, what did they want?”

“Nothing that will be missed for long.”

“I see. By the way, did he show you that painting?” Osamu asks they leave the room, skipping over the passed out guard, heading the way Terushima went.

“Yes, he did. Beautiful work.”

“Thank you. Took me two years to get it, but it was worth it.”

“How so?”

Osamu nearly rolled his eyes at the memory.

“Atsumu whined about it for weeks to no end. So I promised I'd lend a hand. Not so easy when you have that idiot for a brother, but what can I do.”

They took a leisurely stroll in the basement labyrinth, not in a hurry. Skipping over an unconscious body here or there on their way to the meeting point, so thoughtfully left behind by Terushima to shorten their search. That Terushima really was a nice guy.

“You haven't heard anything about my bodyguard, have you?” Osamu asks as they round a corridor.

“No, I can't say I haven't.” Kageyama tells him, kicking a pistol away from one of the guards away from him into a hole gapping in the floor a few feet away.

“Shame. I do hope he's alright.”

“I hope so, too.”

“So what brings you to Europe?”

“Sakusa-senpai asked for assistance and here I am.”

“Oh? How is he? Haven't heard from him in a long while.”

“Fine. Had a lot of work to deal with. You know how he is and what the situation was for him to ask for assistance.”

“That's true.”

 

“WATCH OUT!” Terushima yells as they finally catch up to him, currently struggling with one clever guy.

Osamu didn't have time to blink as Kageyama merely hit one guard with his elbow in the face, sending him against the wall with a well placed kick to the sternum.

“...see you haven't lost your touch.” Osamu blinks, ducking out the way as Terushima sends the other guy flying.

“...let's just say I've had enough of this for a while.” Kageyama shrugs, checking the guy's pulse. “I also have special permission from Hanamaki-san.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Osamu says, looking rather impressed.

“There was a little misunderstanding in Italy last summer.” Kageyama offers, checking the magazine of the only weapon he could find on the guy, throwing the gun away and pocketing the magazine.

“Last summer? That was you?”

“Yes.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

 

“ _Hate to interrupt the chit-chat, but could you please focus for a moment?_ ” Terushima shouts from the other side of the corridor, noticing they were stuck behind, having a conversation.

 

“Be right there!” They both shout back.

“You wouldn't have time for coffee when this is all over, would you?”

“I don't see why not.”

 

_Terushima almost wept._

 

_Why couldn't Miya Atsumu be normal and simply ask like this?_

 


	49. A style of their own

“Okay, wise guys, this is how it's going to be.” Miya Atsumu says, not one bit entertained.

The room was a bit chaotic, not by his choice and he certainly didn't expect Kageyama's troops to jump in like he didn't abduct their...uh.

_As if he didn't abduct Kageyama at all._

A few holes, broken bones and noses, a few scratches and he made a mental note  _not_ to further upset them. That Hanamaki person could be quite aggressive.

 

Okay.

 

Scratch that.

 

Who's he kidding?

 

The guy was a monster when it came to that Matsukawa person, in particular. One of the masked men accidentally shot through his jacket and Miya's certain Hanamaki saw red. Not just any red, mind you. Even Iwaizumi didn't look all too keen on stopping him when he appeared out of nowhere next to the shooter and rearranged the bones in his hands, if Miya assumes correctly.

It went straight to hell and back again, from there.

Miya would put his hand in a volcano and still claim he blinked maybe two, three times and there he was, seated nonchalantly on a box in the middle of the room, playing big boss and pretending that was exactly what was meant to happen.

Lucky, he was good at that.

“You tell me where Osamu is and I just might work something out so you can at least limp for the rest of your lives.”

The brightest bulb in the room quickly got the idea, gulping hard.

They really didn't mean for the mess to happen.

At least not with this as the end result.

One of the guys was irritated there were too many unfamiliar faces there. (He was new.)

That irritation led to raised voices, which led to the incident of the warning bullet he had fired as a form of stress relief and warning not to be so smug and nonchalant in their presence. Unfortunately for him, the bullet bounced off at a very unfortunate angle and led to Matsukawa's jacket being torn and his surprised face at the event.

 

_Which led to Hanamaki drop his airy attitude and break the idiot's fingers with the brightest smile Miya had ever seen in his life._

 

That, in turn, had Iwaizumi grab the chance and deal with the nearest guys from where he stood. Sugawara merely retreated a few steps back, grabbing the gun one of the guys Iwaizumi was fighting with dropped, removed the magazine and hauled it at the guy who prepared to shoot at Hanamaki. That didn't go as he hoped it would, but he did get his attention.

_The wrong way._

Matsukawa was there to lend a hand, though. Or a foot, for that matter, seeing how he kicked the gun out of the guys hands but his ankle got trapped.  _That one just couldn't get a hint now, could he?_ The man pulled at his ankle, making him fall on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs, which caught Hanamaki's immediate attention.

_The guy really didn't pick his methods._

For someone of his statue, he was strong. He snapped the man's wrist, forcing him to let Matsukawa go before he wrung his arm out, twisting it in a rather painful angle until a loud pop could be heard and whoops, there goes the elbow. Not that he cared, though. He would have popped the other one as well if Matsukawa didn't stop him – more for his own sake than the one assaulting him.

 

“Makki. Enough.” He said, pulling him away from the man, and close to him in a firm embrace around his shoulders. “I'm fine.”

It took the good Hanamaki a few moments to realise where he was and what Matsukawa was telling him, but he did come around when Matsukawa blew in his ear.

“What the heck, Issei?!” He shrieked, covering his ear. “That's just wrong!”

“Uh-uh.”

“Seriously...”

 

_Miya made the right decision and merely stayed silent until he found himself seated on a box, left with the negotiator's role, even if there wasn't anything to negotiate by now._

“L-look, were we hired to do this.” The smartest of them chose to talk. “We were to collect this painting and get the hell out of here. That's all.”

“Neat. By whom?” Miya asks, opting to fulfil his role he was assigned for, in everyone's interest.

“Our boss knows!”

“And that is?”

“...”

“Oh, come on, don't go silent now.”

“I would love to tell you but we ever got deployed by him over phones.”

“...did you not see what these people can do in mere seconds?”

“I did. But I really can't help you. I'd love to, believe me.”

“Oh, never mind, Miya, he's honest about that.” Hanamaki chimes in, happy with the state of Matsukawa's jacket after he dusted it off.

“You sure?” The man asks, raising a brow at him.

“Oh, yes. I can tell those sorts of things.” Hanamaki grins as if he didn't try to ruin every joint in one of the masked men's body.

“...well if you say so, who am I to disagree?” He offers a polite smile.

“Though, young man...” The pink haired man turns to the chatty one of the mostly unconscious bunch. “...I will have the nice people outside tell me things and you will be the one to spill them all out.”

“...y-yes, s-sir.”

_Miya was starting to regret his poor choice of action at the beginning of this episode. Being on the good side of these people seemed to have more benefits than he ever thought it would. Not that he ever paid much mind to it._

“Okay, so where's my brother, then?” He asks, concluding the other topic was over.

 

“ _Here._ ”

Another Miya, looking exactly like the one asking arrived behind doors, looking... _bored._

_No, wait, that was just his face._

Terushima arrived next and Kageyama last. The youngest there scanned the room and then just dropped all the magazines he collected on the way in a pile.

“...shouldn't we call for someone?” He asks as he takes a look at a few men lying on the floor.

“...do we have to?” Hanamaki asks and gets hit in the back of his head by Sugawara, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa at the same time.

“OW!”

“Terushima, would you be so kind?” Iwaizumi asks as he shots a glare Hanamaki's way as if they hadn't had this conversation about his ideas in front of Kageyama at least every other day.

_Terushima didn't had to be told twice._

Which left Osamu to turn to Atsumu with a scowl of his own.

“...what?” The twin asks, though he has a very good idea of _what._

“You know damn what.” He said. “You whine for weeks for that and _this_ is what you do?”

“...” He should have know those weird twin vibes would work and Osamu would know about that little stunt of his. _His network is up to date with informations, as well, it seems_.

“I-”

“Save it.” Osamu cuts in, voice strict, rubbing his forehead. “I know this isn't your fault, but you need to work on your people skills.”

_Amen to that._

“Do you know what became of my bodyguard?” He asks in a more softer tone.

“...he'll be fine. Just let him sit out for a while.”

“...good.”

“How did you end up here?”

“I wasn't supposed to.” Osamu says. “They were after you.”

“Seems you either pissed someone off or you got their attention in a more positive way, I can't tell. Whatever it is, I found out half way something was amiss.”

“You're an idiot.” Atsumu says, earning himself a pointed look from his twin.

“Excuse you?”

“You knew I knew, so why did you have to butt in?”

“Do you seriously think I'd let some hired guns get to you? With your attitude?”

_Ouch._

“...you're still an idiot if you think I'm happy with how this turned out.”

_As much as he was concerned about his brother, he_ did _ruin a good thing going on back there._

“As far as I'm concerned here, this wouldn't have happened if you just asked nicely.” Osamu notes dryly.

_Iwaizumi had a vague suspicion the last bit of the conversation wasn't about one of the Osamu twins._

So had Hanamaki.

 

_But what the real tragedy was, Kageyama wasn't even listening._

 

He'd been busy to ask Iwaizumi for a phone.

“ _Sakusa._ ” He hears from the other end.

“It's Kageyama. We're all settled here. How are things on your side?” He asks, concern written all over him.

“ _Fine. We had a little run in with a few unexpected guests. You might want to let Tsukishima sleep it off._ ”

“What happened?”

“ _Give me that._ ” He hears Tsukishima scoff somewhere near.

“Tsukishima?”

“ _Hey there._ ”

“What's wrong?”

“ _Nothing much. Just got a little hit, that's all. I'll be fine._ ”

“There's an ambulance on its way.”

“ _Like I said, don't worry._ ”

“...okay.”

 

_Osamu noticed the weird shadow crossing over Atsumu's face. He decided not to ask._

 

The rest of the guys let it slide, too.

Boot or bullet, they really didn't plan on breaking the kids heart if they could help it. Hanamaki would force the stubborn man into a complete check up the moment they get back, though. He owes that much to Kageyama for keeping his mouth shut. It wasn't exactly fair, but they decided to go with it.

But, before that...

 

_...he should really give thought to that vacation in the middle east._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, lovelies. Thank you for reading this story, it really means a lot! :D


	50. Another happy ending

“Yes, everything's fine. We got something out of it.” Iwaizumi says, holding his phone a good few inches away from his ear as he speaks with Oikawa on the phone.

“Tell Ushijima he'll have his stuff back, without a scratch.”

 

Another string of unnecessary loudness emerges from his phone and he lets him ramble for a while, until he hears Oikawa take some air.

 

“I'll tell you everything when I get back.” He informs him, ending the conversation. As much as he wants to spend the next hour or so making sure Oikawa doesn't get grey hair, he has something else to take care off.

“So, what next?” He asks Sakusa.

“They deal with the rest of them.” The man points over to the few people they had the pleasure of meeting Hanamaki's protective side in the custody of Bokuto's associate.

“I go back and finish my job I called Tobio in for and I'll make sure he gets home safely.”

Iwaizumi would so like to point out some things, but he's certain Sakusa will make good of his word. The spiky aura around him is that assuring.

“Very well.” He says. “Can I count on you to send that back when they're done with it?”

That being the painting Ushijima lent them. It would take some time to process it as evidence and Iwaizumi really can't stick around lest Oikawa flies in from Japan and makes a fuss. Which he's already making, but miles and miles away from where he stands right now.

“Of course.” Sakusa says.

“Thank you.”

A little further away from them are Bokuto, Kuroo and Akaashi, the two letting the happy go lucky man chat with his friend. Kuroo's more than ready to get this over with and reveal the big plan to the two. He's taking them back to Italy for the time being and then he's got a little surprise. He's been planning it out for a while, but this side adventure got in the way.

Not that it wasn't interesting, but he'll gladly take some time off from all that.

Going by the deep rings around Akaashi's eyes, he's safe to assume the green eyed pest will have no objections either.

Maybe he and Bokuto will manage to get the whole art academy days story out of him.

You know, given the right amount of pampering, fine food and drink. Maybe. He's not saying Akaashi would fall for that, but hey. After everything, he figures they have a good chance of finding out.

 

_Speaking of finding things out._

 

Terushima's been on his phone for a good hour, making rather entertaining faces as he's religiously typing away at the device. Given the little agreement between Hanamaki and Miya, he and Kyoutani get a shit ton of time off from babysitting their boss.

And there's someone they haven't seen in forever.

The smile plastered on his face at one point tells a tale of its own.

They have a lot of catching up to do. He can't wait.

 

And while he's grinning all happily and stupidly, on the verge of being teased by Hanamaki, who so happens to be near, help up by only Matsukawa, Tsukishima's in the ambulance vehicle, getting a treatment from his earlier encounter with a hard boot.

“You're fine, huh?” Kageyama mutters as the paramedic finishes the check up on Tsukishima.

The photographer really didn't want him to see the bruise forming on his chest, but he'd really have to thank the idiot who kicked him. He managed to cover up the bruise left by the camera when Miya Atsumu took a shot at him.

Kageyama's one perceptive individual. He really wouldn't like to risk him concluding something that could potentially break his heart. Or worse.

“The kick really didn't feel that painful.” He says, letting Kageyama help him with his shirt. It may be a little constricting when he's trying to inhale more deeply, but it really isn't something to shout out bloody murder about.

“There' a list of things that could go wrong from a blow like that.” Kageyama says, brow raised.

“Sounds like you have some experience.” Tsukishima says, getting up.

“Not personally, but yes.”

Among the list of his own injuries, he's quite happy he never had to list that one as well.

“I'll be fine in a couple of days.” Tsukishima says, easily hopping out of the vehicle. He only stops when he sees Kageyama's face.

“...please don't worry about it.”

“...you wouldn't have that if it weren't for me.” Kageyama says.

“...okay.” This wasn't hinting at good. He wouldn't be rethinking what they talked about by Miya, would he?

“...” _Shit._

“I can't read your mind, sweetheart.” Tsukishima says. “You'll have to say something.”

 

_Oh, the look is saying a lot of things._

_Damn. He should have told the paramedic to shut the doors._

 

“...I'm sorry.” Kageyama then says, placing his hand gently against his chest.

“This wouldn't have happened if I didn't insist on helping them out.”

“I could have stayed out of it.” Tsukishima says, covering the hand on his chest with his own in a gentle grip.

Kageyama didn't look all too convinced.

“I do admit I didn't like the idea.” Tsukishima begins, pulling him a little closer. “Think of it as divine retribution for keeping silent.”

“Why did you keep silent?”

“...I don't know. You came up with a plan before I even got there, figured why the hell not. I like how enthusiastic you get.”

“You thought that might have turned into an argument if you said something?”

“Not really. More like trusting you besides telling you I trust your call.”

“...you know, we did start this thing in a weird way...” Kageyama says. “Do you need some time to think about it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“...you sure about it?”

“Yes.”

“You should still rest.”

“You could join me, you know.”

“...anything in mind?”

“Maybe.”

“I...”

“We can do that after you finish your work.”

“You're going to rest after all that?”

“No, I'll be resting while you do your thing.” Tsukishima smiles. “Then we can take a vacation.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get into any more trouble.”

“Sounds great.”

 

_Near them, Sugawara wonders idly just how he plans on doing that._

 

_Half across the globe, someone's not entirely happy despite sitting on the finest beaches the Caribbean has to offer._

 

“...didn't think I'd ever see you sulking so openly like that.” Osamu comments on the spectacular pout on his twin's face as he joins him by the table.

The whole unexpected mess ended up much in their favour.

Except for one thing.

Kageyama Tobio slipped Miya Atsumu's fingers, yet again.

Hence his pouting.

He couldn't fool his twin even if he tried.

“Am not.” Atsumu rolls his eyes, pouting even more, averting his gaze to look upon the shore of the island his family owes, a neat little thing somewhere in the Caribbean.

The Interpol and some other organisations had their work cut out to find out more about the mystery thefts and the ones responsible for it. The group that got assigned to kidnap Miya Osamu got stuck with a whole list of charges against them and were forced to make a deal with the authorities, no matter how much they protested. No one was crazy or loyal enough to be stuck with that pile of bullshit going on.

Sakusa went back to Amsterdam with Kageyama, Oikawa's bunch returned back to Japan, Akaashi and his two sidekicks returned to Italy for the time being.

Osamu didn't think for a second that the ordeal was what Atsumu had in mind when he went and snatched Kageyama away, but he couldn't let people kidnap him like they had planned.

They might have their differences, but Osamu would never allow anyone to mess with his brother. No matter how fussy he would become afterwards.

“See it on the bright side, brother,” Osamu says, nodding at the housemaid who served them coffee and left with a bow, “weren't it for that, we wouldn't be enjoying this lovely vacation."

“I would have, weren't it for that mess.”

“I beg to differ, Atsumu.” The man counters as he lifts the cup, enjoying the fine aroma. “Who do you think Oikawa's people would be after behind the scenes, despite Kageyama's wishes? He may look differently on things than his associates, but I highly doubt they would have tolerated any more of your schemes. Especially after last summer.”

“Not to mention this thing with Sakusa going on.”

“...what thing?”

The look Osamu directed at him was all the answer he needed. And he wasn't in the wrong, either.

“I just wanted to mess with his head and get him on my side, is that too much to ask?” Atsumu sighs as he dumps some sugar into his cup.

“You tend to push things a bit.” Osamu offers. “Though, I do think you need to work on that approach of yours.”

“Why thank you.” Atsumu bites.

“I have an arrangement with him that won't piss off everyone around him, while you have your name on Sakusa's death list. Probably theirs, too.”

“...when the hell did you manage that?”

“When he came by to pick be up.”

“...you're unbelievable.”

“Am I?” Osamu offers a kind smile. “I could lend a hand, if you wish.”

“...”

“Atsumu, you're my brother and I love you, despite everything. Now, if you want to achieve something, you know you can always ask me.”

“...are you really implying what I think you're implying?”

“Like I said. You're my bother and I want you to be happy.”

They sit in silence for a while, Osamu enjoying his coffee and Atsumu deep in thought.

Sure, he made a lot of bad moves recently, but to think Osamu would lend a hand to help him with that is just...not something he ever thought he'd hear. Osamu didn't exactly agree with most of his ideas most of the time.

So what gives?

“...aren't you sly?” Atsumu muses quietly, finding the thought a bit funny.

“Am I?” Osamu returns the smile, quite content Atsumu stopped sulking.

“Oh, yes. You are.” The twin snorts, making a face at the coffee which turned out too sweet.

“So what's in it for you?” As much as he's in the know of his brother's mindset, there are things he can't make out.

“I'd like to keep that bit for myself.” Is the reply.

“Then I'll think about it.” He says, putting up with the too sweet coffee as he takes another sip. It's dreadful.

“Fine with me.” Osamu replies, relaxing in his chair.

“By the way,” he then ads, almost nonchalant, “I hear this time of the year is quite suitable to visit the middle east.”

_If Atsumu didn't know him any better, he might have thought he was up to something._

 

Back in Japan, one Ushijima is really confused by Okiawa's latest brain storming.

“Sorry, I really can't follow.”

They're both seated in Ushijima's office, Oikawa munching on some cookies, looking really pissed. He showed up that morning with a box of those, dragging Ushijima with him, ordering his assistant to get them something to drink.

“It's really simple.” Oikawa starts, pointing a cookie at him.

“He gets into trouble unpredictably where it isn't expected so I'm sending him somewhere where it is so he won't get caught up in something.”

“I see your logic, but I don't think that's how it works.”

“Oh, trust me, it will.”

“...”

“By the way, you'll get your painting back in a month or two.”

“Uh, okay.”

“It takes time until they process it. They assured me it will come back in one piece.”

“Really, don't worry about it. It needs a new layer anyway.” Ushijima sits back into the chair, still not sure what was going on.

“ _By the way, how was that trip to Morocco last year?”_

 

_Because Oikawa liked to know things beforehand. Hence why sent out certain people owing him favours to check out situations in a number of countries he planned to ship the two little birdies until he digs something of his own interest out. Hanamaki's list certainly came in handy._

 

Said Hanamaki was lazily sprawled out on a chair on the deck of a cruiser heading for the coast of Morocco in the month of March. Next to him, in a more decent pose, was Matsukawa, brushing up his dictionary.

 

_Tsukishima had his camera ready, for Kageyama Tobio and his wide grin as the sun set on the sea was a sight to behold._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! :D
> 
> Hoped you liked this little work of mine and thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and sticking with me. Love you all and look forward to new works! Have a lovely day and see you around! :D :*


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